My Father (by The Bwaz)

Recently I tried to clean up all the Christmas stuff I got from Grandma Cece. It consisted of 5 big boxes sitting in the middle of the family room. Both Dan and my dad kept asking me when I’d get rid of the mess. I figured I could clean out the walk-in closet that contains about 5 boxes of crap that isn’t mine and it will be perfect. Three of the boxes in the closet are baseball cards that belonged to my brothers when they were kids. One box contains old bills and letters belonging to my dad. And the last one is full of old Surfer and Time magazines. (Because one day my dad might get the urge to dig out this box, unsettle the dust, and read one of the old articles – yeah right!) I got such shit from my father!!!!! “I can’t believe your going to move (all my) stuff into my living room. How inconsiderate of you Laura. Only thinking about yourself.” He gave me such a guilt trip I ended keeping the letters & bills box and the magazine box in there. I think I remember crying during some of the argument too. He can be such an ass sometimes!

As I’m writing this, in obvious deep concentration, my father keeps talking to me from the kitchen. “Laura, did you see what I got? Laura, you bought the wrong kind of soup for me.” I had enough, “Dad, will you please stop talking to me right now. I’m in the middle of writing something.” I screamed. Now, every minute or so, he says, “What Laura? Did you say something?” or “huh, what’d you say?” This has been going on for the past 20 minutes. My Grandma says if I can live with my dad, I can do anything. I think it should be more like… if I end up living with my father for much longer, I’m going to go crazy.

My Father (by The Bwaz)

Dan and I name the kittens Buddy and Simon. Buddy looks more Siamese than Simon and Simon is friendlier than Buddy but that’s their names. It’s confusing, I know. Dad names them Dumb and Dumber. Those names fit pretty well too. They like to chew on wires, cables, Christmas lights, whatever is most dangerous. After they’ve run around the house and beat up on each other for a little bit they like to sleep for hours. They are the laziest cats I’ve ever seen.

My Father (by The Bwaz)

I get a call at work today from Dad. If I want to keep these cats I need to buy a $400 cat litter box. The Litter Robot is a completely automated self-cleaning litter box made especially for multiple cats. As an accountant, I’m outraged! As a daughter who forced two alley cats into her dad’s home, I’ve got no leg to stand on. Luckily, Dad hadn’t bought neither Dan nor I a Christmas present and Dan was willing to put in whatever I put in. In the end, Dad paid $200 and Dan and I each paid $100. Not too bad. The gizmo should be here in a couple of days.

My Father (by The Bwaz)

My friend Jessica calls me today to inform me that she has two very cute, very friendly kittens that are hanging around her bar. They’ve been hanging around for the past couple of weeks and they look like they haven’t been fed much. I talk my brother into going with me to the bar (so I don’t catch all the blame from Dad for this) and we take a look at these two cats. They are adorable!!! Part Siamese and very friendly. I take one in my car and my brother takes the other. I get home first and walk in with the cat. My dad takes one look at them and says “Hell no, get it out of here!” I begin to plea with him to let me keep the cat. “Hell no Laura, what were you thinking?” In walks my brother with Cat #2. My brother and I both say nothing as Dad goes on and on about how I need to take these two cats back to where they came from and how Meow Meow is barely dead and I’m already replacing her. (Let me interject here by saying that I am in no way replacing Meow Meow. She was the sweetest, most intelligent cat I had ever met. If she comes back, we’ll just have three cats instead of one.) I lead the cats to the food and water. They eat and drink as if they hadn’t done either in days. The cats are allowed to stay but Dad has now labeled me the Crazy Cat Lady.