Weekend Trip
/I'm going out of town this weekend to a writing workshop for children's writers. I've been preparing my cats for my departure all week.
"Mommy will miss you," I coo to my kitten. I press kisses into the soft fur on top of her head. "What will Mommy do without her baby to cuddle?" I blink back tears.
I turn to the cat, who is waiting for me to throw kibbles down our long hall so she can chase them, her favorite game.
"I love you," I tell her as I fling food at her face. "And I'll miss you and think about you every day. But I'll be back soon."
Last night as we were preparing for bed, I gave more kisses to the cats. "I will go into withdrawal, not having any kitty love for a whole weekend," I wail, scratching the cats behind their ears.
"What?" says my husband.
"What?" I say back.
"Why won't you see the cats this weekend?" he asked.
"My conference. I'll be gone."
"What conference?"
Uh-oh. Seems in my desire to prepare my babies for my imminent departure I may have forgotten to mention to my husband I won't be around.
"I remember when I used to be the first one you told things to," he said, throwing the cats a resentful glance. They turned their butts to him.
"Don't overanalyze it," I said. "I still love you best." I hug him and over his shoulder mouth the words, "Not really," to the cats.
He beams and hugs me. "I love you too."
That's us. One big, happy, dysfunctional family.
"Mommy will miss you," I coo to my kitten. I press kisses into the soft fur on top of her head. "What will Mommy do without her baby to cuddle?" I blink back tears.
I turn to the cat, who is waiting for me to throw kibbles down our long hall so she can chase them, her favorite game.
"I love you," I tell her as I fling food at her face. "And I'll miss you and think about you every day. But I'll be back soon."
Last night as we were preparing for bed, I gave more kisses to the cats. "I will go into withdrawal, not having any kitty love for a whole weekend," I wail, scratching the cats behind their ears.
"What?" says my husband.
"What?" I say back.
"Why won't you see the cats this weekend?" he asked.
"My conference. I'll be gone."
"What conference?"
Uh-oh. Seems in my desire to prepare my babies for my imminent departure I may have forgotten to mention to my husband I won't be around.
"I remember when I used to be the first one you told things to," he said, throwing the cats a resentful glance. They turned their butts to him.
"Don't overanalyze it," I said. "I still love you best." I hug him and over his shoulder mouth the words, "Not really," to the cats.
He beams and hugs me. "I love you too."
That's us. One big, happy, dysfunctional family.
