We had three houseguests last night. One of them was two (and a half!). The adults, of course, were very fun to have over. I want to talk about the little girl.
She spent dinner sacked out on the couch. Sound asleep, being occasionally investigated by the cats.
After dinner, the adults had settled in the front room with our tea, and the girl woke up. She was contentedly wandering around, looking at things, and she saw the smaller cat.
The cat froze in horror, then sprinted for the door. Cats (even ones with naturally bobbed tails) apparently have an instinctive horror of children.
To which we’re like “very good! That’s a cat. Her name is ‘Minnow.’”
“Mee-know?” (wandering after the cat, voice echoing through house): “Mee-know? MEE-KNOW?”
In short order, the little girl was back, at my knee. “Uncle? Cat.” Very serious.
I was like, “sometimes cats hide. Did you look for her?”
“Cat. Mee-know, uncle.”
“She likes this toy,” (hand her the cat toy), “can you find her?”
Shakes head. Points the toy at me. “Cat. Uncle. Cat.”
So I spent the next hour or so wandering around my house with a two year old, looking for the cat – while the grown ups talked about boring stuff. One high point was when we were on our bellies, looking at Minnow who was under the farthest corner of the sofa. Each of us had a toy, hers was a little stuffed mousie. Again, very serious.
“mouse.” (yes). “cat”. (yes).
I sorta dig this kid. She can hang out anytime.