I’m at that age where a lot of people I went to school with are having or already have kids. Scary right? I thought the moving out and the getting a mortgage was a massive step into the big bad world and I’m nowhere near ready for the patter of tiny feet. However I do frequently hear the patter of tiny paws waking me up 2 hours before my alarm…
I, have a little furry baby instead.
Phoebe is an 18 week old kitten; a little terror with the key to my heart.
So we have to keep everything a lot tidier now, check rooms before we shut the door and be aware that anything that resembles a piece of string is a piece of string to her: phone chargers, shoelaces, hair … yes, hair.
I wake up a lot because there’s a kitten chewing on my ponytail.
Have a cardboard box?
She’ll sit in it. Sometimes even hide and jump out at you from the box.
Need a pen?
Probably with all the others that she’s hidden under the coffee table.
That glass of water?
Hope you don’t mind sharing it.
Trying to wrap some Christmas presents?
She can help!
5:00am wake up call?
But then …
And it’s all forgotten.