Transcript of actual conversation between me and Matt:
“So what’s Simon doing for Yom Kippur? Going with you and your mom?”
“No. He’s going to have a sleepover with your folks.”
“Oh.” [sounding surprised]
“Yeah, I figure he did so well on Rosh Hashanah, we can call it a holiday. Besides, he’s not-quite five. What’s he going to atone for, anyway?”
“He can start with that Baby Kitten stuff*.”
The man has a point there.
Baby Kitten has been a fixture in our lives for several months now. I’m not sure how many. He began showing up around bed-time and was kind of cute—sort of the embodiment of Simon’s stuffed animals. Baby Kitten would meow, would talk about having paws and not hands, and would need to be lifted into bed. This routine was perhaps odd, but it had some endearing aspects to it.
Ninety-nine percent of which are now gone. Somewhere along the line, Baby Kitten developed a voice that rivals car alarms, trucks, and nails on a chalk-board in its ability to grate on my and Matt’s nerves. It’s a high pitched wail/squeak thing that sounds less like a cat than some animal in dire straits or a carbon monoxide detector going off. Whatever it is, it ain’t cute.
As if that were not bad enough, Baby Kitten has also become a proxy for Simon when he needs a scapegoat. Simon can be happy and independent all day, but the second he begins to tire, Baby Kitten emerges.
“Well Baby Kitten can’t walk” he’ll tell us. Or, “Baby Kitten’s legs are too tiny.” Or, “Baby Kitten can’t get out of the car.” Or “Baby Kitten can’t climb into the car.” Or, “Baby Kitten is too tired to do [fill in the blank].” Or, my personal favorite, “Well, Baby Kitten can’t talk yet.” This last bit comes in response to Simon’s refusal to tell me what he’s so irritated I can’t understand in Babykittenese.
It’s enough to drive you to drink.
Baby Kitten is the closest thing Simon has to an imaginary friend. I don’t know when kids exit this childhood phase, but I’d be real happy to hear that the answer is five. Because honestly, eight more days of Baby Kitten may be all I can take!
*”stuff” was not the word he used, but it did begin with an “s”.
We had the ubiquitous “Nobody.” “Who did that?” “Nobody.”
LOL!