There haven't been many things I've had stewardship over. Actually, before Juliet came along there were a couple cats and that was it. "The cat" was my last animal. I think Charles originally named him Joseph - but that could have been a different cat I can't remember. Carlee named him Bagheera, and some of the guys from our ward called him Thriftshop. But around the house we just referred to him as the cat. That didn't mean he went unloved, he had free range of the house and was king of our two acres (and plenty of the neighbor's lots as well). But he was never too proud to show his appreciation to me by bringing me gifts and offerings. It wasn't uncommon to find a dead mouse in one of my shoes. Actually once I found a live mouse in one of my shoes. That wasn't so pleasant, but not so bad as the night he proudly dropped a nice moist mouse in my slumbering hand. I often wondered, 'What kind of behaviour do I demonstrate that makes the cat think I would want a dead mouse?' I suppose in cat logic that was a surpreme gift.
Now there is Juliet. Her gifts are anything from half chewed bananas to cups of juice, a box of matches, various dvds or books, any clothing she can find in drawers or laundry baskets. I accept them all. But today, Juliet gave me the gift to top all gifts.
She has had a little bit of a diaper rash recently, and in hopes of helping it heal a little faster I've been letting her run around bum in the air. She promptly took off for her room for a little solo play (which I encourage!). A few minutes later she returned with an unidentifiable object in her hand.
"What have you got there Juliet?"
She smiles and laughs, walks over to me and proudly deposits her gift in my proferred hand.
Yesterday I could honestly say no one had ever handed me poop before.
Today I cannot make such a claim.
What kind of behaviour do I demonstrate that makes Juliet think I would want a piece of poop? I suppose in 1-year-old logic it was a supreme gift.
5 comments:
I think the fact that you're always taking her poop away from her (during diaper changes) might be the behavior that expresses your desire for gifts of poop.
His name was Oscar, and I'm sorry I've neglected all these years to hand you poop. I'm glad someone finally got around to it.
That's hilarious! and disgusting! we found hattie playing with her poop in the tub the other day. Sick.
his original name from the pound was merlin, that's how sarah remembers him. i believe he was also occasionally referred to as periwinkle. thriftstore was the only name that he didn't respond to (that's how you know a cat's name, it doesn't respond to it.)
also, i think it was tiger that dropped the mouse in your hand while you were sleeping.
No it was definitely 'the cat.' I was still sharing a bed with Amy when Tiger was around.
You are right though, he was originally Merlin. I had forgotten that. I had forgotten Oscar too, which was one of his more popular names. But it was definitely Thriftshop, not Thriftstore.
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