Gus-the-kitten is standing on my notes, screaming for attention, and occasionally swatting me as I write this.
Wednesday evening I took Gus to visit Dad. Kate S. and Michael were there, too. Dad held Gus and gingerly stroked his tiny, fuzzy body.
Dad was in a silly mood, and Kate S. said to him, “you’re a lot of fun, Addison.” To which he replied, “sometimes . . . sometimes I’m kind of gruesome.”
As part of his overall silliness, Dad stuck his nose into his tall plastic cup and used his nose to rock it back and forth. At first he did it with an empty cup, but then he did it with the cup filled with juice. Kate S. tried to warn him, “Addison, you might spill it.” “I very well might,” he agreed, seeming not at all disturbed by the possibility and continuing to do it. When he was done with this activity, he said “I did something nobody else has ever done, hooray!” and threw up his arms in a cheer.
The day before, he and Kate S. were listening to the “light classical” station, and there were several composers neither of them had heard of. Dad theorized that “they must have imported them from Mars.”
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