Sorry Your Idea Sucked

“After lunch, we made love like it was the 4th of July. And because it was the 4th of July, it felt exceptionally patriotic. I even wore my British flag t-shirt to commemorate the evening.” ~ Jarod Kintz

I do not "celebrate" patriotic holidays in typical beer can crushing, hot dog gullet stuffing, Yay fireworks type of manner.  If we really think about freedom, then I am free as all get out, celebrating that I am home, doing whatever I want.  I am not at the helm of the clock, being driven to "arrive" or space my booze accordingly for the 35 minute drive home.  Welcome to my freedom - from guilt, from plans, from expectations!  Whee ha!  {Lights sparkler}

This morning I had total free choice in chasing a cat that had a dragger.  I could have let her handle the matter with dignity, on her own at some point.  But that would mean total acceptance of cat poop germs wherever her butt may kiss.  Rahveenha is skittish.  And incredibly affectionate.  We've nicknamed her Violently Happy.  At about nine months old, she is the baby of the bunch.  She has this incredible heightened sense when I am trying to catch her for a "reason".  Usually she comes running when I call her.  Today, she and her butt blob hid under the futon.  She then ran pretty much on everything that I wouldn't want her to be on...the bed, the pillows on the futon....she may as well have opened the refrigerator door and sat on everything in there.  It's one of those pursuits that you can't give up no matter what.  Unless you're ok with getting out a shit detector and wandering around the house, paper towels, cleaner and keen eyesight in tow.  You really have to get into one of those "That's it, I fucking had it!" moods, where the possibility of being scratched was not even a thought. The best part is, I had just finally made my coffee and was ready to sit down.  

Before all of this I thought to myself.....I'm not huge on these holidays.  On being all Hot dog and Hamburgery for a day.  Then again, I'm vegetarian.  But still.  We have options these days, y'all.  But still, it'd be nice since I'm home to make something gorgeous for breakfast for my Humanling.  Try to show her that she means more to me than a bagel in the mornings.  The Mister had already left onto his day's pursuits and so now it was me and the kitchen.  I can do this.  

Working with what I had, I decided on a cheapy, eggless "french toast".  Bread in the oven, butter it up, sliced bananas and blueberries on top with real maple syrup mother fuckers.  Real. After googling if it ever goes bad after being opened.  In the fridge - where the cat did not go.

I proudly handed her the "surprise!" breakfast plate.  Her face went long.  Her eyebrows fell from the weight of advanced disappointment.  Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to give you twinkies with sprinkles for breakfast today. The SAD fare - Standard American Diet.  

Needless to say, I was maybe pissed for a moment.  (*Moment = an hour).  

I pulled out my superpowers of guilt, passed down to me from the guru herself, and delivered a short speech on gratitude.  Then left the room to discover the shit smear that was easily traced back to the litter box.   I complained to my mom on the phone, who laughed the words "HAHAH..she's fourteen!...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA".  My response was closer to the letters "Pffff".  

About a half hour later I received a note.  

{Smiling Parent}