THE BED

 

Okay, so we are now the proud owner of a nifty queen-sized  bed for the spare room, obtained from my  sister-in-law.  We are also the proud owner of a 40-inch TV also from sis-in-law. If you can’t see where this is going, then you haven’t been married all that long. Michele told me that it would make a perfect bedroom for…me! I think she was joking but there is that slight area of doubt that has me a tad concerned.

Before we moved into our current townhouse, I had occasionally taken up residence in what we will call ‘Bedroom #2,’ for purposes of convenience, i.e.; my penchant for thrashing and sprawling out generally resulting in some light bruising of my wife’s torso.

Although, truth be told,  I don’t really mind being demoted to ‘bedroom #2’ yet again, however there is another greater concern of mine and that is who will the cats choose to sleep with? I’m not sure my ego could take that hit. I liken it to my teenage break up with Sara Gates. She dumped me and that was bad enough but what made it worse was wondering who she dumped me for. It had to be a classmate of mine and how could I, as a young, healthy and hormonally driven male accept the fact that a young woman would find another young man more desirable than me?  I was secretly hoping that she left me for the head cheerleader, Allison, but it was not the case.  If you’ll pardon the clumsy analogy, that way it wouldn’t have been the ride she didn’t like, but rather that particular mode of transportation. I could have lived with that, but no.  It turned out to be Jim, a senior who played 2nd string on the Junior Varsity football team! That one hurt. I got dumped for a guy who wasn’t fit to carry water for the big boys and also was continually  late for JV practice because he couldn’t figure out how to put his shoulder lads on? So, you see, my ego has been bruised enough. Bad enough to be eschewed by another human being but from felines who I rescued from the shelter where I had to provide such invasive personal information as my name and phone number? Please…no.

For that reason, I’ve been purposely delaying setting up the bed and mounting the TV. Meanwhile, I swear I’m getting looks from the boys and they’re telling me, ‘You’ll know soon enough.’

Yup! I’ve got a dilemma of epic proportions on my hands. Michele is clearly their favorite because she takes the time to toss their silly catnip mouse around and brush them incessantly.  I need do some catch up and need to do it in a hurry if I have any hope of the boys choosing my pillow as a cat hair depository.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. It was off to PetSmart where I asked the clerk what toys I could get that would leave my wife in the dust? The alert clerk, with eyes suddenly as big as silver dollars, brought me over to the ‘Premier’ section. I ended up getting 2 six-foot cat trees (complete with cashmere covered, catnip flavored branches) a pop-up peek & play tent and a catnip 24 Karat…thingy that kind of resembled a dildo. But I was assured they would love it. Total cost of my attempted bootlick: $392.58.  Take that Michele!  When I got home, the boys briefly awakened from their nap, yawned in unison and proceeded to fall back asleep.

I have no results to report as of now, only hope. If, when all is said and done and the room set up, the boys still choose to slumber with my wife, in her bed, I promise I will make every effort to behave like an adult. However, should I fall short of that, I’m actually hearing good things about snails.

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