Friday night we had a birthday party for Daddy and daughter #1 who were both born in February. I was prepared for my usual Friday of napping and pizza, but when Daddy got home he started bringing the chairs up from downstairs, Mommy was making cake, and I knew it was party time.
Then the grandbabies came over and they love me. They pet me, and pick me up, and scratch me, and pull my ears, and try to snatch my tail and I remember why I got fixed. Mommy's in the kitchen, Foley's behind the couch, and I'm the sacrificial Pocket at the mercy of ten tiny little hands and 50 dirty fingers.
Then Daddy came in with the pizza, the vegetable kind because of something called Lent that I don't understand. Everyone sat down to eat and Foley and I hurried under the table because little kids in a hurry to eat so they can play, and pizza, makes for plenty of floor food for us. This was especially pleasing because Mommy doesn't let us have human food anymore. We now have to rely on uncoordinated children and gravity.
Then they got down to play Barbies and I went with them. When their backs were turned I ate the Barbie shoes. I love those things. I think I need to join Foley in therapy.
Then Mommy brought out the cake, and they sang that horrible song they sing, which makes my ears bleed. Foley and I didn't play the uncoordinated kids gravity game. We're not big on cake but we would split a donut with Kady.
Then I went over to Daddy and put up my paws to be lifted. He did, and held me by my halter and I sat on his knee. My paws were on the head of the table and I was facing everyone. Then daughter number 2's husband told the grandbabies to leave the room for adult talk.
And they allowed me to stay. I was shocked. I was going to take part in the adult conversation. And then it began.
Husband of daughter number one talked about going to the Daytona 500, eating a lot the night before, getting terrible cramps, and that's when I learned the secret. Adults are just like us, when they get together they talk about poo. Lots and lots of poo.
The talk changed to other things, but would always come back to poo or poo related topics, things they pulled out of the drain, things that help them poo, places where they don't like to poo. It was fascinating. Adults are just like us.
So I am going to spend more time writing my blogs tailored to adults starting now. Eating vegetable pizza from the floor leaves you with some amazing poo and leads you to have three baths a day.
Very adult indeed.