1/21/2013

Soft kitty, dead kitty


Cooper and Figaro, in happier times.  


This is Figaro.

Figaro is Cooper's (imaginary) kitty.

Figaro is black and white and tiny and fluffy.

Cooper carries him around all day, playing with him, feeding him, petting him.  It's really sweet.

Except for the fact that yesterday, I killed poor Figaro no less than a dozen times.

It's totally not on purpose, by the way.

See, Cooper carries Figaro around, then as little boys are prone to do, he puts him down for a minute or three and goes on about his other little boy business.  And since Figaro's IMAGINARY, and therefore INVISIBLE, I can't really be blamed if I sit down on him, now can I?

I mean, hell, I never even know I've squished the poor thing until Cooper wails "MAMA! GET OFF FIGARO!!!  HE IS UNDER YOUR BUTT!!!"

Oops.

Sorry 'bout that, kitty.

Occasionally I step on him, too, but I think he's got a better than average shot of making it out of that with nothing more than a maimed tail or a broken leg or something.

My ass, however, is quite larger than my foot and the poor thing probably isn't going to survive that.

But I knew without a doubt that I had killed him and killed him good when I accidentally put him in the washing machine yesterday.

See, Cooper and I were walking downstairs toward the laundry room, me with laundry basket in hand, when Cooper said "Mama, Figaro needs to ride in the basket."  It SEEMED like an ok idea at the time, but then since he's INVISIBLE, I promptly forgot about him.

Oops again.

Well, I forgot about him until a few minutes later when Cooper began shrieking "FIGARO!!!!  WHERE'S FIGARO?!?!?  MAMA DID YOU PUT HIM IN THE WASHING MACHINE?!?!?!?"

Uh oh.

I immediately scooped up a bunch of air and handed it to Cooper.  "Oh no, baby, OF COURSE Mama didn't put Figaro in the the washer!  Here he is all safe and sound, see?"

Cooper looked at me suspiciously for a minute, then started petting and whispering to the empty air in his hand.  I'm not sure he totally believed me, but he went with it.

Which is a good thing, because I HAD totally put the imaginary cat in the washer.

Ummm, my bad?



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