Life With Boys

Life with boys … another bedtime story to share … a few nights ago we were settled in for the night … the cats had finished their rituals … the boy and I had come to a temporary truce about blanket coverage … Alexa was playing the calming classical for cats playlist (yes, that is really a thing) … I had just slipped into that sleep stage when you are not quite sure if what you think you are hearing is real or a dream … ok, it is real … the cats must have the zoomies and now it sounds like one of them is trapped in the entrainment center, probably behind the tv … I get up to investigate … it’s not a fancy tv, but I really don’t want to deal with the research process of getting a new one …. and since I am up the boy goes to use the restroom … well, if we are all up I may as well turn on the lights … crap …

The cat is not in behind the tv … he is behind the cabinet … playing his favorite game … catch the mouse … the boy calls from the restroom, “what is going on out there? … Me: “the cat has a mouse” … the bathroom voice questions, “are you serious, is it alive?” … I cannot dignify that with an answer … he calls again, “can you take care of that?” … Does he think I am just going to go back to bed? … Now the cat and I are on the prowl … the mouse darts all over the room … in and out … hiding behind and under the tv cabinet … I am armed with a vintage sterling silver Paul Revere trinket dish, ready to capture our prey … and the boy is watching our show from his perch on the bed … he would help, but it is clearly far more entertaining to watch … somewhere mid-hunt Alexa has started to play Rhapsody in Blue (this is not a calming cat song if you ask me) … the song is getting to the climax, playing faster and faster and louder and louder … and I am yelling at Alexa to turn off … and the boy asks if the mouse needs something more relaxing … shut it you …

The cat and I finally corner the critter and I get him trapped like a treat in a very fancy serving dish … the boy and I manage to slip a cutting board below to seal the trap … and down the stairs our caravan goes… zoomy cats … barefoot, groggy adults … and the guest of honor in his gilded trap …

As I am carrying our prize I head out onto the concrete sidewalk … barefoot … in the not warm weather (I know it was not more than 20 degrees) … to release our furry prisoner … who immediately tries to make his way back towards the house … right over my feet … as I come back in the boy asks, “were you doing a little victory dance there?” … I think I will escape to the restroom in the future, and let the boy investigate …