I'll Take Kittens For $500, Alex.

It's just that I miss having a cat around. I miss the purring, the lounging in the sun while it streams through a window, the stink of a tootsie roll left for our dog in the litter box.  

I miss sitting at the computer, hearing the cat's feet pad over to me, pause a second and leap onto my desk at which point, kitty lays directly on top of the keyboard to let me know he's ready to be loved. I miss petting him twice and moving him to the opposite side floor, only to have him cross behind the chair and jump up again. And again. And again. And again. Ok, I don't miss that part as much because I find I get a lot more Facebook stalking done without the mobius strip that is the kitty-keyboard dance.

However, I miss having a cat around. 

I asked Husband whether we could get another cat, which was probably not the best route to go if I really do want a cat. Husband is not a cat person to begin with; we only got the cats we had when we were dating and he was still willing to do things "for love" including have cats around and fold socks. Don't worry, since we wed, there are plenty of things I no longer feel the need to do, too. Wink wink-- do you get me ladies? 

Ahh. So where was I? Yes, so I asked Husband if we could get another kitty and the echo of "NO!" still rings in my ears a week later.  

And it's not that Husband is a father figure and I had to ask him permission to get a cat. It's more like we're partners and if something is going to impact our family for a substantial period of time, we discuss doing it.  Whatever, right? Anyway, so I said, "Honey, could our family possibly get another cat?" and Husband shouted his negative response before I'd even mentioned the type of animal I was thinking about. Really, if I'd been smarter I would've changed "cat" for "Porsche sports car" and laughed heartily at his haste. 

But I really want a cat. And Kiddo #1 wants a cat. So, sneakily, the next day, I suggested she talk to her father about her cat needs.  He shot her down, too, which was both expected (why would HER request be honoured more than mine, when I've got WAY more seniority) and unexpected (her long eyelashes and gorgeous smile could make Scrooge sign away pay cheques to the poor.). Really. No huh?

The problem is that when I want something, I don't just kinda, sorta figure it'd be cool to have. I want it. Need it. Got to have it, and with his desire NOT to get a cat, my desire catapulted (ha) from an 9/10 to 90/10. It was all I could do to keep myself from getting one of those "My Husband said either the cat goes, or I do.  I'm gonna miss him." bumper stickers.

So I started plotting and planning-- how could I get a cat without Husband knowing, and keep the cat without Husband being wise?  Well, for starters our cat would have to be an indoor cat, which means I couldn't just build it some cat house (not one of those cat houses, but like a dog house, but for cats) and feed it spaghetti every morning like they do in Rome. So, just keeping it outside wasn't going to work. And we all know how difficult it is to make a cat do what you want -- so keeping it confined to my sewing room (an area that Husband never ventures) would be a fool's quest.

And then I realized that I could get the cat from either a friend or a pet store (but use cash so as to not arouse suspicion when "Cat Vendor" showed up on our Internet banking list) and just pretend someone dropped it over our chain link fence in the back yard!  Ingenious! Husband would never suspect that. 

Yes, oh yes, he would. He knows I would totally do something like that and he'd confront me and, since I'm the WORST LIAR ON THE PLANET (worse than Spongebob, I assure you) I'd confess everything.  

Ok, but, then I realized that in order for him not to suspect anything, I had to make the scenario more real. More plausible.

So, when I went to the humane society yesterday, I picked up 5 kittens! Oh yes! He'd never suspect I was behind this, if I found a whole litter of cats in the backyard!  He would assume that someone really did it -- our house backs to a walking path, so it's totally possible someone would drop off a whole litter of unwanted kittens into our 4 foot chain link fence. Why not? 

I brought the mewling kittens into the house, gave them tons of love and posted my ad on craigslist and kijiji (which is Canada's craigslist).  Then I, hastily, made some signs to post around the neighbourhood.  

In retrospect, there were a few things that made Husband question my credibility:

Four Things That Made It Obvious That I Purchased The Litter Of Kittens

1) The phone number on the flyer was 555-5555, which (in case you're thinking of trying it) isn't my phone number, so anyone looking for the cats wouldn't be able to reach us/me.

2) The kittens were all spayed or neutered. I got them from the shelter, remember? It's kinda one of their requirements. So when Husband picked one up and found its stitches, he asked what kind of surgery I'd been performing on the kittens.  I said, "None. They came spayed or neutered."  

3) Clenching my eyes shut like you do when you stub your toe in the middle of the night after I said, "None. They came spayed or neutered." was another giveaway.

4) The kittens weren't from the same litter and therefore were vastly different sizes. And varieties. 

Frick. 

Yeah.  And, like all my plans that have been thwarted to date, Husband realized the jig was up and looked me in the eyes and asked, "Wifey, did you have anything to do with these kittens finding their way to our house?"  

And, like every other time Husband has looked me in the eyes, catching me in some trivial untruth, I faked deaf and pretended I could neither hear him nor could I read his lips. I then started shouting craziness, as though I'd been struck deaf at that very instant (kinda like that movie where that guy is pretend blind and then his sight comes back just as the Indian guy is gonna tomahawk his face to prove he wasn't blind, but the guy didn't flinch because even though he could see, he couldn't blow his cover. What movie was that? Kevin Costner movie? I dunno.).  

I kinda wish I was Kevin Costner though, because Husband saw right through my rants and shouts of instant deafness and said, "Wifey, did you get these kittens?" and I couldn't do anything but sob, "Yes! Yes! I'm a liar and I'm not even deaf, either!"  

Sobbing, sobbing on the floor. Really, it was the stuff of a 15-year old girl after her best friend stole her boyfriend. Oscar worthy, but not kitten-worthy. Boo. 

Note to self: stop using "Dr Evil's Guide To Diabolical Plan Making."  However, if you do want a kitten, I've got five that I'll let go for ... 1 billion dollars. Muah. Muah ha ha. Muah ha ha ha-- frick. Husband says we'll sell 'em for free, just get them outta the house. 

Anybody want a cat? Or five?

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Hallo-Winner or Hallo-Weiner?

It's the most wonderful time of the year: Halloween!

I awoke this morning with a song in my heart and vampire teeth in my mouth. Doing the dance moves to "Thriller" I sashayed my way into the kitchen to start breakfast. This proved to take significantly longer than expected (turns out the Zombies don't move a whole lot in the forward-motion); but the kids and I just ate breakfast while doing the dance moves. And don't picture what children look like doing the pelvic thrust that the zombies do. It ain't pretty. But it IS hilarious.

Kiddo #1 was to wear Black and Orange with a side order of "wacky hair" to school today, instead of her costume, which was no problem for this lady!  I plugged in my crimper and crimped until her hair was like the rays of the sun at high noon. Then I sprayed it all high and crimpy, added some plastic spiders and voila: wacky hair.

Into her black outfit she slunk like a mini-Morticia Addams, um, but blonde and with glitter and sequins (she is my daughter, you remember).  We got her to the bus with the other black and orange children and lickity-split, our Halloween adventure was afoot.

Kiddo #2 and I, then, raced back to the house to get him into costume, too. We were meeting up with GG (Great-Grandma) for breakfast but, after seeing what I could do with his big sister's hair, Kiddo #2 wanted some spicy Halloween digs, too.

No sweat, I said. 

I got the baby into his Rambo costume -- I made him some baby muscles and a bullet thingy that you wear (pretend I used the right term there) in the X over your back and chest.  Then I put him in come camouflaged pants, painted his face in camo and voila: Killer assassin. Done.

But me? What was I planning on doing? Oh my gentle reader, Halloween is my time to shine. I had four costumes for today.  Why four? Well, because I figured 5 was overkill, frankly.  I'm the Cher of Halloween costume changes, and this year, I really feel I outdid myself.  

For the hours of 9 to noon, I started small: I recreated Lady Gaga's meat dress. Rather, I contacted the person responsible for preserving the meat dress, greased the palm, and voila: I had not only her meat dress (which is now closer to jerky) but I also had breakfast!  GG was thrilled to know I brought the bacon!

(Yeah, so in preserving the dress, a great deal of salt was used. This was handy for future generations that might want to see the actual dress, but not so great for me. Also, Lady Gaga is only about 4 foot 11. I'm 5 foot 11 3/4. This would have probably looked crazy on me even if it hadn't been jerky. But whatever. I rocked it.)

At noon, I sped home and changed into my second costume: The Disco Zombie from Plants Vs. Zombies. I didn't want to be the boy zombie, though, so I changed it up and was a girl one. This picture really doesn't do it justice though because it doesn't show the gold lamé dress properly. Or the crimped hair. But I did my best. It was more work than I anticipated, though, making lesions on my skin. 

I think next year, I'll pre-make the lesions and freeze them for quicker applications. See, I had to have the sores or I would've just looked like a disco version of Elphaba from Wicked.  Although, maybe that would be ok-- "I think I"ll try, defyiiiiiiing diiiiiiisco."  Yeah ... not as good.  

Anyway, I put Kiddo #2 down for his nap while I put on my zombie make-up, which gave me more time than I thought I'd have. And, although you'd think this would be good, it actually backfired because once I'd finally finished the costume, there wasn't much time left in the 4-hour window I'd made for each costume. Boo! 

So, once Rambo awoke and I re-dressed him (you can't sleep with ammo on your chest, I found out), we quickly went to the supermarket to show off my second costume to anyone around.  

Let this be a lesson to you: if you make your lesions particularly realistic by using the leftover jerky from your meat dress, don't wear said lesions to the supermarket. There were a couple of clean-ups needed on aisles 3 and 7, and again between bananas and broccoli in produce.  But, really, if you have a weak stomach, why would you go to the supermarket on Halloween?  And also, thanks, random puker, for making me the reason there was a clean-up on aisle 5. You made far too much noise on aisle 3 in response to my awesome make-up job thus sending me into a zombie disco wretch fest.  Gross. 

Anyway, once that mess what cleaned up, it was already time for costume #3!  We raced home so I could get dressed before Kiddo #1 returned from school and also needed a costume change. Phew! 

Removing the zombie welts, but leaving the green skin and flattening the hair, the third costume should be very obvious to you, fair reader: I was Fiona from Shrek The Fourth. Or whatever the fourth one is called.  Anyway, I looked so much like her, that I don't even need to include my 'actual' picture, since it's precisely, without any difference, the same as the one below. 

Let me tell you, if you happen to have some unresolved issues with someone, and you show up looking like Fiona: Warrior Princess with your 1 year-old son looking like Rambo, people want to make those problems go away.  

For example, when Rambo and I arrived to pick up Kiddo #1 off the bus looking like this, the bus driver decided (after months of negotiations that went no-where) to change the location of our bus stop, and I even managed to get it put at the end of our driveway WITH a two-honk warning every day before the bus leaves it in the morning (if we're not already out there, that is!).  This costume (and my crazy assassin-looking son's costume) changed my mornings in one fell swoop.

At any rate, Kiddo #1, now home, did her homework (who assigns homework on Halloween? Not I, said the little green hen.) and I got her dressed in her costume, which (obviously?) was Rapunzel from the movie Tangled.

 

I spritzed her hair to get the crimping out and commenced to braiding.  We got her dressed and looking sweet (instead of morbid and pale from her school day) and I decided that Rambo needed a costume change, too. So, I scrubbed the camo off and put on a wee black nose and the most deliciously cute Ewok costume ever invented. Seriously, where has this costume been all my life? 

And, with two sweet kids ready to trick-or-treat, we set out (with Husband dressed as the Red Angry Bird. Sigh, I loves me some nerd!).  As it turns out, Fiona's warrior princess costume was a touch drafty considering it's CANADA and almost NOVEMBER.  So, after about 4 houses, I was ready to get into my fourth and final (and warmer) costume.  Plus, I wore it to hand out the candy to our 300 kids that stopped by. Seriously? 300? Yep. It would've been cheaper to invite all those kids over for dinner than buy all that candy. BUT, at least all that candy is not in my house waiting for me to consume it. Small mercies, right?

You might wonder what on earth would be the topper to being Lady Gaga, Disco Zombie and Fiona? It's a good question, that's for sure.  But, it just made sense, if you ask me.  

For my final costume change, I decided to go as Glinda, the good witch from the Wizard of Oz. 

I just put the crown on Fiona's wind-swept hair to push it down.  By then, most of the green had worn off my body anyway, so I finished the job with a white (now green) towel. Then, I reapplied lipstick, added sugar to my voice and glitter to my face and voila!  I then slipped into the giant, bubblegum pink dress (not to be confused with Gaga's bubble dress) and my final transformation was complete. I mean, seriously folks, Halloween is my jam and all, but even if you're not a big fan, you can do any of these costumes pretty effortlessly. 

Trust me. 

And if you can't trust me, then I happen to have some red, sparkly shoes you can borrow; I guarantee they'll transform who you are in just three clicks. 

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