Anyways, last week I wasn't really home with the cats because I was at a wonderful place called 4-H University, an incredible camp where 4-H kids from all over the state could get together and compete in events, collect awards, participate in workshops, and run for 4-H state office. I learned so much more about 4-H and I would encourage all of you to look more into 4-H. But with that said, I was, thank goodness, hours away from the kittens all week.
On Friday of last week I came home, and it didn't take long before my siblings exhuastedly shrugged off the responsibility of the kittens to me.
They had gotten huge.
I only had to crack the door open before they came shoving their way around me, trying to escape. The Breakfast at Tiffany's picture we had put outside the door as a makeshift baby gate was now too short for their rather mature leaping abilities and when they weren't scrambling over the picture they were eating the paper backing off of the frame. Which is a big deal, because that poster is the best thing I have ever found on the side of the road before. Once I made it into the room, the sight was...incredible. There was spilled kibble, litter, and water everywhere, all the surfaces were grimy and a very questionable color. There were things chewed up and scattered all over the floor, and the sink was on and the Siamese kitten was staring at it like it was a TV show. Just a moment later there was two kittens climbing up my jeans, digging their claws into my legs and pulling my britches down.
But it was then that I remembered a parenting method my mother had always loved. That method was this: if you find your kids (or kittens) acting unruly and you think you're going to kill them, stop and take a picture. Even if you don't see it then, one day it will be funny and, possibly, adorable.
Mama used this theory even though she didn't believe it, and thanks to her we now have some priceless childhood photos.
She took a picture when...
|Arts and crafts time went a little-- okay, way--outside the box.|
|Her daughter was the prettiest princess at the party.|
(this is probably the best picture of my sister ever.)
|When Big Mac decided to make his own first aid kit from mommy's stuff.|
When family pictures just weren't working out the way she had hoped.
|when she was convinced that the tantrum. would. never. end.|
(this is a photo of my record-breaking 6 hour tantrum. Over what? No one remembers.)
|When it occurred to her what bath time was going to look like tonight.|
|...Or how expensive therapy was going to be.|
|When all she could do was stand helplessly as her son turned a pleasant field trip into his own rock concert.|
|...When she realized that we were just too cute to give up for adoption.|
Shenanigans not pictured:
1. Me crying because Farmer's Daughter made me eat nail polish
2. Farmer's Daughter spitting in a cup saying, 'Chew tobacco, chew tobacco. chew tobacco spit..."
3. Big Mac rolling in Nesquik on the counter
4. Big Mac rolling in toilet paper on the counter
5. Big Mac making Will Wonka's Factory by slinging wet Froot Loops around his room
6. Big Mac turning the thermostat to forty degrees for a day
7. Big Mac killing spiders by beating the wall with a hammer
8. Big mac practicing his plumbing skills by clogging our toilet--on purpose.
9. Big Mike having to smash the toilet to get the toilet unclogged
Needless to say, family mishaps one day become funny, and it turns out that is much better if you take a picture of the tragedy before intervening. What's any of the heartache worth if you don't have a picture of it?
So I thought that if this method works on kids, it just might work on cats. At tonight's feeding, I went in armed with my camera and shot away.
In case you're wondering, it's not funny yet.