Sunday, September 30, 2007

Letters

Dear Lady in the Checkout Madness that is Costco,

Oh, bitch, PLEASE. I realize that you want out of here as much as I want out of here, but I'm in front of you, and if you think that inching your cart forward until it almost hits me is going to do anything, you're sadly mistaken. Unless that something you are looking for is me turning around and clawing your ugly face off. Because lady, I'm in that kind of mood.

I'm aware that this is the highlight of your week, when you dust out the ill-fitting gray sweats you've had since you were a fat teenager, roll off the couch with its 3 inches of cheeto dust, and drive slowly with your left blinker on all the way here to Costco. I'm pretty sure that you're finally of the age where you're all, "Fuck it, I'm an adult, and these young whipper snappers can suck it. I'm going to be rude and I'm going to act out all the aggression I have about not being as pretty as my sister, and be a complete and total bitch and they're all going to have to take it."

Well, honey, I'm not that young and I'm so so so totally not going to take it. You might be pushing that frizzy mop off your forehead and looking at my frizzy mop and thinking, "I can take her." And, oh, you'd be so wrong. My mop is frizzy because it is always like that, and yours is frizzy because it is an extension of your execrable life.

I guarantee you will never be a match for me,

Salome

Dear Lucy,

I have put up with a lot from you in your life. You're a miserable cat, but I've always loved you despite that. In the last few weeks you've become a totally unstable whackjob who is nothing but a nest of bitch and claws. If I have to hear your pissed off screech one more time, I'm going to snap. It seems that everything annoys you. If i walk past you, if I turn on music, when I grind coffee beans, if I shut the door to pee in peace.

I understand that you think your life sucks, but you have made mine suck in turn. When I carried you to the bed a couple nights ago and you freaked out and hissed at me, bit my head and scratched my face? THE END.

We have a new cat in the house, princess. And you are going to mellow the fuck out and let her live here. You let your brother disappear, and it broke your mom's heart. Do you hear me, Lucy? It broke my heart when your brother went away. You did not help me, not when I was sobbing and searching the backyard and begging you to come and smell him for me, and lead me to wherever he was. You have such a keen sense of smell that you probably know when a mouse farts in Kentucky, yet you did nothing. And I know you know what Finny smelled like, you've detested the scent since he came home in June of 2004.

This morning when you tripped me for the 3rd time, and this time tripped me so effectively that I hit the floor, after slamming against the wall in the hallway first, I had had enough. You hissed at my last nerve, Lucy. THAT is why I stomped toward you, screaming. You went under the bed, which was such a good idea, even though I've never hit you and I never will. If you make me fall and hurt myself again, I swear to God I'm making you into a hat.

Lucy, in the coming days you might notice something different about your water. It might taste slightly like natural flowers. Hopefully you will feel fairly mellow when you're done drinking it. I bought an all-natural item that is called GOOD CAT, supposed to calm down frantic or nasty cats. You are a nasty fucking cat, Lucy, and I hope you chill out.

I've had all I can stands and I can't stands no more,

Mom

2 comments:

devi said...

Lucy sounds like a teenage girl. Atleast you can put her to sleep.
I kid, I kid.

Bobbi said...

I hope Lucy is doing better... Good Cat is like the Mary Jane of your time for kitties... let her finally be at peace!