Felines Of The Future.

It has been stated that kids say the darndest things. Well, cats do the weirdest shiznit ever could also be a blanket statement of worth. The cats of yesteryear used to play with balls of yarn and would drink milk out of bowls. Their antics would entertain but on such a basic level and we adored them for it.

Enter Nigel and Whitney aka felines of the future. Nigel maintains a dating website profile, she reads her Bible on a daily basis and is often seen taking online courses for accounting in the wee hours of the night. Whitney doesn’t quite have the same skillset or drive but she has her own commendable habits. These items include playing the piano (either Chopsticks or AC/DCs Thunderstruck), breakdancing and coloring. Like I said, no where near as talented as Nigel but time is on her side. Nigel is 2 years closer to the grave than Whitney but they both have a good 13 or so years in them so you do the math.

I thought they were your garden variety typical house kittens. Nigel is a contemptuous a-hole but besides that I looked past any of their well honed skills and dare I say traits. I knew something was different about Nigel maybe 3 months ago when I swear I caught her dustbustering the automan. I say I swear because it was one of those moments where you see something out of the corner of your eye, leave the room then do a mental double take.

By the time I got back to check on her she was pretending to be asleep on a kitchen chair and the dustbuster was on its side close to where it belongs. There are 2 things about this ordeal that also do not make any sense and further confuse me every time I re-tell it. I own neither a dustbuster nor an automan.

As for Ms Whitney, she has been leaving little clues all this time pointing me in the direction of her genius. Took me a darn while to realize. I would get out of the shower and step in a bowl of hot tapioca and think nothing of it.

Sure, I’d hem and haw, and soak my foot in ice water to prevent any degree of burns but I just chalked it up to ‘it must be the kids’. Then one day it just all clicked. I’m in the basement doing laundry in the buff because I needed to wash everything. I’m minding my own business and then I see a giant flash.

Whitney is perched up on the dryer, partially hidden behind the detergent bottles. She’s holding Nigels iPhone and she has just successfully taken a nude pic of me and if not intercepted she will post it to her Instagram story. The backstory here is I had disciplined Nigel a few days prior and she wanted sweet revenge so she convinced Whitney to get on board as she’s better with button pushing. It’s all in Nigels diary.

At this point there’s potential high jinx around every corner. Most of the time things are peaceful with Nigel listening to Mozart or Whitney channeling Willie Nelson for an upcoming readers club roast. They are my best kept secret. I could one day exploit their sensational, humanistic ways but for now I keep things on the down low. I’m afraid they’ll get my tongue if I do something like that.

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