Tonight I went as far as trying to hide the feta cheese container under my shirt so the kittens wouldn’t see it and know I was about to use it on my dinner. They are so good, however, that they can distinguish the sound of my fingers wrapping around the container before I’ve removed it from the refrigerator. One little shake of the container brings them running from three rooms away. In fact, they are so attuned to the dishes I make, if they’re observing me in the kitchen they can sense when I am going to retrieve it from the fridge, even before I’ve gotten the door open. It’s truly disconcerting on every level.
The point is, I’ve clearly lost all control over house and home. I literally had a container of cheese shoved up my shirt in the most pathetic attempt ever to conceal its presence from my horde of ravenous beasts (okay, there’s only two of them, but it feels like a whole pack sometimes). And, guess what? It didn’t work anyway.
Is it possible I have adopted the smartest demon cats on the planet?