Since Brent and our cat have a certain love-hate relationship, he sometimes goes into the bedroom and shuts his door to escape the little mischevious furball. On Saturday, when Doof was being particularly evil, I let him set up his little drawing table in there and eat his cereal. Right...do you see where this is going??
Anyhow, I am always prepared for a little spillage as the spoon gets to his mouth, or when he picks up the bowl and drinks the milk out of it. But this time, I sat in the other room and listened for a few minutes, trying to decipher the peculiar sounds coming out of his room. Is he using the spoon as a drumstick on the tv screen? No, not quite that loud... But it didn't sound very...good...whatever it was. Finally I hauled my butt out of my comfortable position on the couch and walked down the hallway.
I listened through the door for a minute. Silence. He was on to me at this point. I opened the door slowly, revealing small white circles (approximately 1000) on the rug, a pool of milk on the table, the bowl upside down beside the pool, and a small boy trying to become one with the wall on the other side of the room.
He held his composure for a second, with a few weak sounding "I'm sorry"s. Then every time he apologized, he would try and hide his smile...then it was an all out smirk. He WAS sorry, I think...somewhere deep down...mostly at getting in trouble. But you could tell he was so pleased with himself at the same time.
Needless to say, the cat goes in the other room now during meals, and cereal is only eaten under supervision. But also deep down, I also thought it was a little cute the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and accomplishment.
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