Meet Nelson

This is Nelson. He's a member of our family. Unfortunately he's not the real Nelson. D and I were sincerely hoping he'd stand in for the real one. Apparently our brilliant idea of a pretend Nelson didn't work.

I know you're now thinking, "She's finally flipped her lid--we knew it would happen one day." I'm okay though. I did drop a lid this morning but I haven't flipped one yet. I do need to elaborate so you have an idea of who the real Nelson and who the substitute Nelson are.

This past Christmas we had the fortune (or misfortune, depending on how you look at it) of meeting a cat named Nelson. A few short days before Christmas we took the boys to the pet store to buy gifts for SissyDawg. As is the case with most people, we took a walk by the animals available for adoption. Mistake. Big Mistake.

M locked eyes with a very cute black cat named Nelson. The infatuation was reciprocal. M wanted to know everything he possibly could about the cat, and their eyes followed each other from one side of the store to the other. It was sweet, in a disturbing stalker-ish way. We visited Nelson several times that evening before leaving the store and leaving Nelson behind. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Not hardly.

The next morning I asked M what he wanted to do that day. He was very specific in his request: "I want to go back to the Dog Store and get that Nelson cat." This went on several times a day for several days, with increasingly pleading doe eyes. It didn't look good for getting out of this one, even with the long and detailed explanation of how Nelson would make him itch. We even had papers from the doctor to prove it. He still wasn't buying into that excuse.

Santa came up with the brilliant idea that Nelson moved to the computer and M could play with him via the Nelson Webkinz. It seemed to work. The Nelson/M connection was there, not as strong, but seemed to be there and it was especially fun for him to take care of Nelson on the computer. I had a false sense of security that Nelson was now and forever a stuffed cat, never a live one in his memory.


Fast forward to two days ago. A conversation takes place. It goes this way:

M, crawling sweetly into my lap: Do you want a pet, Mommy?

Me: I sure do. Will you be my pet?

M: No, I not a pet. I want a kitty.

Me, playing along: What is a kitty? And how do we get a kitty?

M: First we go to the Dog Store. Then we pick out a kitty. His name is Nelson and I want him.

Me, trying to keep a straight face: You can't have a kitty. They make you itch.

M, still not buying the itch excuse: I want to go to the Dog Store and get that Nelson cat!!!

That last bold phrase has been repeated multiple times since. The child has a memory like a steel trap. Unfortunately.






I wll not give in...I will not give in...I will not give in...I will not give in...

You Should See the Other Guy

Really, surprisingly, the Other Guy (also known as N) is none the worse for wear. At least after that scuffle.


But J did learn a good vocabulary lesson. He now knows very well the meaning of the words "instigate" and "antagonize." Actually, they both know since they both were equal starters and participants in this battle. But I was the finisher!

Boys. I just can't figure out what makes them start wailing on one another for no apparent reason. From my untrained eyes there appears no obvious provocation. I must be wrong though, since it seems merely walking by one another is enough to evoke attack instincts. Lions should be lucky enough to have such great reflexes.

As part of the "what makes you go 'duh' today" moment, I present to you the fact that we are paying good money to have someone teach them to smack others. And do it well. Effectively and efficiently even. Go figure.

They do tend to get along better than most siblings I know. They have their moments, but for the most part they are best buds. As I was explaining to J two mornings ago, he has only two brothers. (Trust me when I say there will be no more.) He'd better think about treating them better to keep them around longer. If you were sitting near a window relaxing and enjoying your coffee Memorial Day morning, I'm sorry his extremely loud maniacal laughter and dancing disturbed your peace.