Sunday, December 19, 2010

Still a kitten.

My big, fat, devious, 10+ year old cat Kitty is still a kitten at heart. Right now she is having a blast batting around a tiny Happy Meal toy kitten around on the floor next to me. When I peek over the edge of my chair and make eye contact with her, she stops, her pupils gigantic, her tail twitching, and she gives me a look that says, "What?" When I go back to ignoring her, she waits a beat, then resumes her play. It's completely endearing.

Every now and then, I surprise myself with my own kitten-esque moments. I know I'm not the most serious adult in the world--and I do deeply admire and envy serious adults--but these flashes of youthful abandonment can be alarmingly juvenile. Ridiculous thoughts slide in and take hold. Tempting white lies squirm into my mind, shaping and disguising themselves as possible truths. Inappropriate comments meant to shock bubble to the surface and sometimes break through. I fall prey to girlish fits of giggling, gossiping, being too rude, too loud, too raunchy, too wild-eyed, too attention-seeking...then a pointed look, a disapproving glance from an observer will be met with my "What?" look. What? Why can't I just be THIS once in a while? What??? But more often than not, I'm staring in the mirror. The reproachful gaze comes from the version of me who tries to be a serious adult and is shamed by my ridiculous weakness, my immature bursts of failure.

So I am kitten less and less. I channel my oh-so-un-adult tendencies into proper, acceptable moments of play with my kids, my niece, my nephews. I get seriously goofy with them in the hopes that I will be able to restrain the silliness elsewhere. I'm not sure how well I disguise my true nature, though.


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