





"There are no ordinary cats." -Colette
Every now and then as a kid, I used to get what my sisters and I called 'Mexican jumping beans.' I have no idea what they really were, or where they came from, but I remember you could find them near the register of any corner drugstore.
This morning, I walked from the fluorescent brightness of the kitchen into the barely lamp-lit darkness of the living room. Meera, sitting on the long end table and craning her neck to see out the window, suddenly stood stock-still and got ready to run--normal procedure for her when I enter the room.My bedroom door doesn't latch properly; the pokey-outey thing is permanently stuck inside the door, so it won't grab the hole-thing on the jamb. ("Jamb"? Is that a word??). Thus at night when I want to sleep a sleep free of stealth toe attacks, I prop the door shut with a shoebox full of books.
Normally I use the shoebox during morning bed-make as well. But this morning I could hear both kittens munching loudly on kitten chow, waaay on the other side of the flat, and thought to myself, "It takes, what? less than a minute to make the bed? I'll just rearrange the sheets and blankets real quick."
I threw back the top blanket. I threw back the comforter. I picked up the sheet. I tossed it high into the air and let it billow slowly, slowly, slowly down. In its settling, two cat-shaped humps revealed themselves. How in the...?!?! Weren't they just...?!?! But...?!?!
I gave up on the bed-make, and instead Kai and Bella and I had crazy insane playtime. Pupils black and dilated, they stalked each other among the mountains and valleys of the Sheet Monster.