The Cat's Out of the (Plastic) Bag

So yesterday I was in an organizing frenzy. I decided to finally tackle the mess that was my desk. This is obviously something I should have chosen to do while Patrick was asleep, but I failed to consider this. Howie is much more respectful when it comes to my need to organize, and he occasionally even has some helpful tips for me. Patrick, on the other hand, is new the scene and still takes advantage of every opportunity to strew my belongings around the apartment. Within a few minutes of my taking things out of drawers and placing them in strategic piles on the floor, Patrick noticed the new playground in front of him, and Operation Make My Job More Difficult was underway. I began chasing him around amid a sea of scattered papers collecting pencils, erasers, and various desk-fillers. I soon resigned myself to the fact that I just had to let him make a mess until he either fell asleep or found a new mess to make elsewhere. He finally focused his attention on a bag. It seems cliche--a cat playing in a bag, but Patrick, never one to allow himself to be stereotyped, set his sights on a plastic bag. He does this often, crawls inside a plastic grocery bag and starts twisting himself in circles and sometimes getting his neck stuck momentarily in the handle. This isn't good. If he was a human child, I'm pretty sure I could be reported to CPS for letting my kid put his head in a plastic bag for some fun. But c'est la vie. I mean, at least he's got a passion. That's more than can be said for a lot of people who stuck their heads in bags as children.

In other news, Howie seems to have resumed eating non-edibles. I was wondering where all the buds were disappearing to off of my artificial flowers. I assumed Patrick was pulling them off and hiding them until I caught Howie chewing on the stems. I'm sort of glad. He's got a passion of his own that he's finally reawakening. His head also smells like a campfire or old Barbie dolls. I can't tell which. I guess I don't know what he does when I'm not home. He could be sneaking off to Mattel conventions in the woods.

Oh right, the cats' bedtime rule. One is not permitted to wake the other cat when he is deep in sleep. This sort of came about when I first got Patrick, and Howie would wake him simply to hiss at him and run away. Now it's more strictly enforced because of Patrick's habit of rousing himself every half hour and forcing Howie into consciousness by biting his neck. The other night Patrick woke up and was headed in Howie's direction for some neck biting, so I had to grab him by the scruff and hold him until I was able to lull him back to sleep.

Being a mom is tough.