Though I have a longer entry in mind touching on recent interesting events in the household and holiday reminiscences and all that jazz, I’m not ready for it yet. Please don’t cry; I know you wait with bated breathe for my next
entry novel. I do have these noteworthy tidbits:
Moreover, it does NOT look very supportive. And I feel bad for the person who had to Photoshop® her nipples from between the rows of candy beads that make up this “sexy candy lingerie.”
Today I bathed them – after cutting their claws and shedding them – they still are keeping their distance from me.
I still find the incongruity of the fact that my Kitten Children are completely fascinated by the bathtub and/or shower yet you’d think that giving THEM a bath was medieval torture at its best (worst?). They want to watch ME bathe. They’ll even drink soapy bathwater (yuck). They want to chase water from three ounce bathroom cups down the drain (I should explain this game some time). But God forbid I get THEM completely wet.
So suffice it to say, despite my Father’s firm belief that any respiratory distress is caused by the Kitten Children (as opposed to POORLY TREATED ASTHMA – and PETTING THE KITTEN CHILDREN AND THEN RUBBING ONE’S EYES AND NOSE AND SUCH – WHICH IS JUST STUPID), I gave in to his badgering and attempted Operation Feline Bath (and if you don’t think it’s a major to do you’ve never bathed a cat).
I got all five thousand towels at the ready, as well as their shampoo and Kevlar body armor for me (I wish). Then I got the BRILLIANT idea that since they get dandruff, especially when it’s so cold and dry, I should use the same treatment I use when I think my scalp is dry. My strategy is so use copious amounts of jojoba oil (theoretically the most like the natural oils in one’s skin). So I dumped jojoba oil on each FURIOUS Kitten Child and tried to really work it in. Oh how they loved that. Then I did the regular shampoo and rinse (and desperate wrestling while attempting to keep my voice soothing and evenly-modulated). I snuggled them in towels and tried to get them to sit by their favourite heating vents. But – OH – they were having none of it. They wanted to go far, far, far away from me and then “re-bathe” themselves (which somewhat defeats the whole purpose of the “allergy” wash since saliva is usually the most severe feline allergen anyway).
Later, when I did catch a glimpse of each Kitten Child’s wee, resentful face, I realized that the simple shampoo would have been best (not to mention it would have made Operation Feline Bath SHORTER). They look like greasy porcupines. And you can tell that they detect a residue on their fur that they cannot seem to lick off (and I tell you – they are being persistent). I’m hoping the oil soaks in and they feel so luxuriously moisturized that they love me all the more. Or ever again.