Feline Hazards
We had the standard rush out the door this morning for preschool. The bus rounds the corner, and I shoo Abbie towards the door, slipping clothes on her body and food in her mouth as we move.
Abbie has three key accessories to don before we can walk to the bus: Shoes and socks, coat, and backpack. The shoes and socks can take a while to attach, so I usually slip those on her feet several minutes before the bus’s scheduled arrival. Her coat and backpack are simpler to slip on her, and I usually wait until I see the whites of the bus’s headlights before I make her wear those. Abbie doesn’t like wearing her coat indoors for extended periods because she gets too hot, and I don’t like her wearing it for extended periods because it’s only a matter of time before she spills something on it.
When I heard the bus this morning, I carried Abbie to the door while she finished drinking her orange juice. I grabbed her coat and started slipping it over her arms as she moved her cup from free hand to free hand. I try to keep Abbie’s coat hung in the closet, but it was on the floor this morning. I try to be a patient parent who’s cognizant of my children’s limitations, but that doesn’t always happen either.
As I was about to zip up her coat, I noticed that something didn’t smell right. Ordinarily the children are the source of these odors, but this odor didn’t quite match. While watching the bus stop at our driveway, I realized the odor was wafting off her coat. That meant this odor’s source was one of our cats, a cat who opted not to use the litter box stationed 15 feet from the coat’s position.
With the bus idling outside, I had to make a quick decision. What coat should Abbie wear to preschool on this winter morning?
Her odorous coat? No, that might risk a visit from child protection authorities.
Her windbreaker? No, too cold. Besides, I couldn’t find it at that second.
No coat? No, once again, her preschool teachers are required to report signs of child abuse.
Just before reconsidering the odorous coat option, I remembered another option. We’d just bought coats for the boys for next year. Ian’s size-4 coat was hanging in the closet. It was a masculine shade of red, but it didn’t have any heavy machinery or dinosaurs decorating it.
I removed Abbie’s coat and slipped Ian’s next year coat on her.
“That’s Ian’s,” Abbie told me.
“Not today it isn’t,” I replied as I slipped her backpack over her shoulders. “Thank your cats.”
Abbie has three key accessories to don before we can walk to the bus: Shoes and socks, coat, and backpack. The shoes and socks can take a while to attach, so I usually slip those on her feet several minutes before the bus’s scheduled arrival. Her coat and backpack are simpler to slip on her, and I usually wait until I see the whites of the bus’s headlights before I make her wear those. Abbie doesn’t like wearing her coat indoors for extended periods because she gets too hot, and I don’t like her wearing it for extended periods because it’s only a matter of time before she spills something on it.
When I heard the bus this morning, I carried Abbie to the door while she finished drinking her orange juice. I grabbed her coat and started slipping it over her arms as she moved her cup from free hand to free hand. I try to keep Abbie’s coat hung in the closet, but it was on the floor this morning. I try to be a patient parent who’s cognizant of my children’s limitations, but that doesn’t always happen either.
As I was about to zip up her coat, I noticed that something didn’t smell right. Ordinarily the children are the source of these odors, but this odor didn’t quite match. While watching the bus stop at our driveway, I realized the odor was wafting off her coat. That meant this odor’s source was one of our cats, a cat who opted not to use the litter box stationed 15 feet from the coat’s position.
With the bus idling outside, I had to make a quick decision. What coat should Abbie wear to preschool on this winter morning?
Her odorous coat? No, that might risk a visit from child protection authorities.
Her windbreaker? No, too cold. Besides, I couldn’t find it at that second.
No coat? No, once again, her preschool teachers are required to report signs of child abuse.
Just before reconsidering the odorous coat option, I remembered another option. We’d just bought coats for the boys for next year. Ian’s size-4 coat was hanging in the closet. It was a masculine shade of red, but it didn’t have any heavy machinery or dinosaurs decorating it.
I removed Abbie’s coat and slipped Ian’s next year coat on her.
“That’s Ian’s,” Abbie told me.
“Not today it isn’t,” I replied as I slipped her backpack over her shoulders. “Thank your cats.”
posted by Matt at
11:50 PM
1 Comments:
Ewwww. You did it again.
But, hey, quick thinking.
By
1A, at 10:12 AM
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