Who's the Boss?

I get bossed around all day, every day. And my boss is barely over three feet tall with shoes on. Don't worry, I boss back and set boundaries, but it is just about all the bossing I can handle, so when I come downstairs in the morning and the cat starts whining at me to feed her, it makes me a little angry. Every morning I give her the following lecture.

Cat, shush. You are not the number one priority right now. My first goal is to get chocolate milk into Daniel's belly. My second goal is to get chocolate milk into my belly. Then, it might be your turn.

Her response is to lecture back and run to her bowl any time I walk across the kitchen in that direction. Sadly the fridge is in that direction so she gets tricked often.

Yesterday morning, I wised up and asked Daniel to feed the cat. He did it perfectly. My hope is that soon the cat will start to whine at him and not at me. There should be a pecking order in the house, and let me assert once and for all, the cat is not the top pecker. Really, I can't figure out who is top pecker these days, but when you get pecked from the inside and out, life is bound to be confusing. Daniel fed the cat again this morning only needing a little help opening the food lid. I knew my two-year-old would be helpful eventually.

My growing resentment towards being bossed cost me my lunch today. I planned on eating at Chick-fil-A after our stop at Target, but as I was loading up the car, there was a lady outside Chicky on a loud speaker, yelling, "Come eat at Chick-fil-a". We got in the car and drove home.

Four more weeks to go, my friends.