I think more people read my blog when I don’t post. And by “more people” I mean five.
I need to say this here because I’ve said it everywhere else. On Sunday I’m going to be leading a workshop. On how to communicate with your significant other better. That significant other can be a husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, or very vocal cat. If there is someone that you either a) don’t feel like you’re talking to enough or b) you’re talking to a lot but in a way that leaves you hoarse from all the shouting then you should think about coming.
It’s going to be fun. I hated boring classes. It’s amazing I made it through formal schooling. It really is a miracle (the real miracle is that I never read any of the books that were assigned… and still kicked the report card’s arse). Anyways, I like things to be fun. And interactive. And for you to leave feeling like you learned a little more about yourself. You should come. Really.
Ok. The ad is over.
Oops. The part I keep almost forgetting. The workshop is October 5th at 5:00 at Haywood Hill Baptist Church.
Now it’s over.
Now the funny can begin.
My step-cat, Nala, is getting fat. Mark and I have been concerned for a few weeks now, wondering if he was just stout or really getting chunky. We couldn’t tell. To be honest, the extra weight looks good on him. He looks stronger. Like he could be a leading man in a major motion picture. I’m serious. I’d watch it.
So he is gaining weight and we’re trying to figure out if it is something we need to remedy. So we’re all weighing him (“Ok, the scale says X (like hell I’m gonna tell you how much the scale says) pounds when I’m holding him, and Y (seriously, I’m not telling you what the scale said) pounds when I’m not… 5… 7… carry the 4… I think he weighs eleven pounds!”) and looking for indicators of feline obesity.
And we conclude that Nala is fat. Overweight. Needs to lose 2 pounds (which is a lot when you stand about a foot off the ground).
I believe that God gave us cats because He trusts us with His creatures. Something about our character made God say, “Yes, you two, care for Omi and Nala. Love them. Make sure they don’t get fat.”
We have failed. And instead of changing Nala’s diet to a higher protein one. Or taking Nala for a walk (yes, cats can go on walks). Or even paying a little more attention to how much he is eating, I’ve decided to opt for humiliation.
“Nala,” I say as I walk past him, “you sure do look chubby today!”
“Hey there, Fat Cat!”
“Nala. Nala. Pay attention to me cat. I want to sing you a song… IIIIII liiiiike big CATS and I cannot lie… ha, ha, hey, where are you going?”
I’ll let you know if he loses any weight on this humiliation diet. No, not diet. Lifestyle. Humiliation lifestyle. If he does lose weight, you can bet your bottom dollar that it will be my next workshop topic.