Crabby Cat

3 Dec

Whine: If you purchase your apple juice by the gallon, be advised that the ‘rule of halves’ will be at play when it spills itself all over your kitchen floor. I’d stick with juice boxes if I were you, three ounces cleans up a lot faster.

Cheese: I just heated some tea using the “beverage” sensor on my microwave. And not because it’s the only button working. My new microwave has LOTS of buttons that work. I’m so excited, I’d even reheat your leftovers.

I met someone new last week. She made her appearance around hour six of our ten-hour trip home from Kansas City. Big Sis, worn out from landing on “Pukey Fever” on our family’s game of Wheel of Misfortune: Virus Edition was conked out in her car seat. Lil’ Sis, however, figured out that by puking twenty minutes into the trip on the way to KC,  Mommy and Daddy would henceforth respond to her every whine and groan, with offers of juice and pacifiers and goldfish and endless renditions of Wheels on the Bus for the remainder of the trip. And in record time. So she commenced whining and groaning. A lot.

Then, she started babble-yelling something new. It took us a few minutes to translate. And then we cracked the code. She was yelling, “Crabby, crabby, crabby, crabby!” Which, if we had been irritated by her constant whining and complaining (but we are loving, long-suffering parents so of course we were not) but if we had  been irritated, would have wiped away every last shred of annoyance.

And then she said, “Crabby cat. MEOW!!!”

And that meow, that snottiest, most irritated meow, full of crankiness and a flair for the dramatic, pretty much said it all.

Sometimes (very rarely, but sometimes) I am a crabby cat. Like when I can’t figure out what to have for lunch because my microwave is broken and I hate sandwiches and my soup pan is dirty. Or when my shoes stick to my kitchen floor because it has been expertly cleaned with apple juice. Or when I’m just about to fall asleep after an exhausting day and I can hear someone in the other room who apparently is not just about to fall asleep and is instead in the crib she outgrew two years ago, waking up her sister.

But I’d like to think that by the time those crabby cat moments end up on this little blog, most of the actual griping and unpleasantness has given way to good humor and amused nonchalance.

On the other hand, I’d hate to come here and post my crabby cat moments, complete with funny anecdotes and rim shots, and leave you with the impression that I am actually that laid back. I’m not. Most of the moments you read about here (especially the ones that involve someone throwing up) are initially met with panic, disgust, rage and irrational crying.  Fortunately for me (and you, too) this blog is not written in real time, so there’s lots of time to get some perspective on the situation. And by perspective I mean a new microwave, a Swiffer Wet Jet and a nap.

Is this Lil' Sis? Or her alter ego Crabby Cat?


4 Responses to “Crabby Cat”

  1. wee December 4, 2009 at 4:22 pm #

    i’m only laughing because I’ve been there…and now i’m not!
    [tho I hear I may be there again]
    wish you could blog on my life too, it’s wonderfully helpful.
    can’t WAIT to see these amazing girlies!

  2. Karen December 4, 2009 at 4:42 pm #

    MEOW! That’s hilariously awesome!
    I love your blog.

  3. rachelle December 6, 2009 at 4:30 pm #

    i love that little crabby cat. i can’t wait to hear the follow up “crabby cat takes shamu.”

  4. wee December 12, 2009 at 11:28 am #

    it was brought to my attention that i might want to explain further my ‘be there again’ comment [i meant i hear preteen and teen attitudes are a lot like toddlers-i’m not preggo and not planning to be]

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