The Cat Olympics

cats

Dear Cats,

Thank you for inviting me to your Cat Olympics but I must regretfully decline. You see, at 3am on a Tuesday, I’ll be sleeping. Or desperately trying to. I had no idea the Cat Olympics could only be held at 3am on a weekday and consist of an alarming number of events that involve breaking all kinds of shit and yowling like deranged wolves in heat. Not that I’ve personally experienced deranged wolves in heat yowling at each other, but I will bet a bottle of my favorite Wilson’s Creek almond champagne, that if I did, it would sound exactly like you lot. By the way, kudos to Wilson’s Creek for concocting the most delicious beverage on earth. This basic bitch loves nothing more than gulping down a bottle or two of your yummy goodness by the pool on a Tuesday. Ok, I lie. I wish I could gobble you up on a Tuesday. But I gotta somehow pay for all the cat food and cat litter that my cat horde goes through like water, so I can only imbibe on the weekend. Anyhoo, I digress. Back to the little shits that give me a tiny preview of what having kids will be like (if I do choose to embark on that journey. Right now it’s a toss-up between an emphatic “hell no” and a timid “maybe”).

The Cat Olympics

This delightful celebration of dexterity and agility consists of an infinite number of events, a few of which I will highlight for you.

The Long Jump – Let’s climb on top of the dresser and catapult down to the bed, landing on mommy’s chest or groin.

Invisible Hurdles – I keep a clean house so I have no idea what obstacles you jump over repeatedly. Is your keen sense of sight showing ginormous dust motes unseen to the human eye? Are you dodging each other’s noxious cat farts as you run through the house?

400 Meter Dash – I’m sorry the hallway is not long enough and the alarming amount of speed you pick up is absorbed quite unpleasantly by the hall closet door when you thwack against it. Despite what obviously must be some amount of pain, you repeat this. Over and over again.

Body Bowling – The 400 Meter Dash regularly turns into body bowling when you decide to run hell-bent in another direction, one that does have obstacles along the way like shoes or purses, and lose your footing, sliding the remainder of the way and knocking over anything in your path. Strike! But can we at least keep the body bowling to the floor? Because I’m tired of picking up hundreds of plastic diamond rocks from the three centerpiece vases that contain them, which you knock over as you jump from the cat tree to the dining room table and slide across the polished wood, and eventually off, in one fluid motion. I don’t understand how you look surprised at this end result when you do this over and over again.

Hissing Tag – I had no idea this qualified as a sport but you’re very good at it.

Hide and Seek – This is a new addition to the Cat Olympics. Joy of joys. Especially when you get stuck under the dresser because, perplexingly, you are thin enough to get in but too fat to get out. And then you meow until your human slave rescues you.

Meowing in Unison – Is this the national cat anthem being sung? Can you just lip sync it instead of wailing it at the top of your lungs together?

Kneading Nipples – Mitten, I’m looking at you here. It’s painful and awkward when you decide to sit on mommy’s chest and knead her nipples. It’s not pleasant to be woken up at any time of the night, but especially disorienting to be woken up in the middle of the night by my nipples being kneaded by a fifteen pound cat.  You also manage to sit in such a way that your ass is in my face. So on top of holes being kneaded into my chest, I wake up gasping for air as I’m being suffocated by a cat butt.

And your opening ceremonies, aptly titled “New Ways in Which to Wake Up Mommy for the Cat Olympics”, start the celebration off with a bang. Let me count the ways you’ve startled me into wakefulness at 3am on a Tuesday:

  1. Finding the one motion-censored cat toy which either lights up like a disco or chirps/ribbits/meows/tweets and pressing on it nonstop for hours.
  1. Climbing on the dresser and knocking off every makeup product and hair accessory you can find.
  1. Climbing the blinds on the window and getting tangled in them.
  1. Climbing on the kitchen counter and knocking off any food items or cups not tucked safely away from your monster paws.
  1. Finding any object or bag that crinkles and batting it around the entire house for as long as it takes to drive mommy to madness.
  1. Biting mommy’s toes through the covers on the bed until mommy screams in pain.
  1. Gnawing on cords and chargers until iPhone, iPad, alarm clock and anything else on the bedside table comes crashing down to the floor.

 

BANG! The Cat Olympics have been kicked off.

Thank you for the invitation. I must decline attendance. And can you please go the fuck to sleep?!

 

Sincerely,

Cat Mommy

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