Dear Yoshi,

Before you were born, your Dad and I had three cats (crazy, right?).  Whenever we would open a can of tuna, the cats would weave in and out of our legs hoping for a taste.  Whenever we would do any sort of exercising like yoga or kickboxing, the cats would think we were playing and would weave in and out of our legs.  Every time we wanted to take a step in both situations, a cat was there to trip over.

That’s what it is like with you when we are trying to get ready to leave in the morning.  This morning, we had our weekly playgroup.  I got you and Zuzu ready first, and then put Z down for a nap.  Then, I got ready.

As I moved about the house, you were constantly at my heels (or toes). 


As I made coffee, you saw Zuzu’s ultrasound picture on the fridge and told me the story of going to see Zuzu on the ultrasound (in OCTOBER–how do you remember these things??).  As I went back and forth from the sink to the coffee pot, you were there to trip over.

“You making coffee? You putting sugar in your coffee? You making oatmeal? What was that sound? Zuzu’s waking up?”

As I brushed my teeth, you stood an inch from me, telling me all about how Daddy brushes your teeth as you acted it out with your finger as a tooth brush.

As I put on deodorant, “you are putting that in your armpits. where did your armpits go?!”

“Where did daddy go? We going bye-bye? Where we going?”

As I chose clothes, you begged me to wear my flowers dress so we would both be wearing dresses.  You begged me to wear my flowers flip-flops to match your flowers flip-flops.  I put on a black sweater.  “Where’s your grey sweater?”

“Zuzu’s waking up?  Zuzu is coming too?  Where did daddy go?  What was that noise?”

Everywhere I stepped, you blocked my path.  You were seriously slowing me down.  For the first few minutes, I tolerate it okay, and say “Excuse me, Yoshi.”    Then, I sent you on errands across the house just to get you away for just a minute. The cost of the clean q-tips I sent with you to the trash were worth the second of peace it provided me.

“I not take my water.  I leave my water here.  I take my kiki.  Oh, here we go. What was that sound?”

By the time we are ready to go, I’m ready to call it quits and stay home.  Even though we were late,  I took a deep breath and headed out the door. There’s never a dull moment with you!



P.S. No, you can’t have a cat.


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