invaded

My baby...
...brought home a little furry four legged baby.

We've been invaded, by a tiny black carnivore.

One that doesn't walk, but rather, prances.
She bounces instead of really steps.

She's also the tiniest kitten I've ever seen in my life.
Runt of the liter.
She's about the size of my hand.

I've had a lot of cats over the course of my life. Growing up and even some into my adulthood. I have NEVER owned a little tiny kitten though.

TINY
...T I N Y
t i n y...
That picture makes her look huge!

And as soon as that child put that kitten down on the floor I had flashbacks.

"Where is she?"..."Is there anything back there that can kill her"..."Don't leave the bathroom door open, she'll get behind the washing machine and we'll never see her again"..."is the fireplace thing in front of it the right way? I can see her lost in the fireplace for hours on end and little soot filled paw prints all over the cream colored rug"..."Oh my God, is that chest safe for her to be under?! If it falls, it will crush her to death!"..."Wait...WHAT...is back in that corner that she can eat and choke on?!"

In an instant I could see 857 ways this small mammal could die a horrendous, limb crushing death
...because I'm an optimist like that...

IT'S LIKE KIDS ALL OVER AGAIN!

Christ, it's no freakin' wonder that I see death and mutilation at every turn and in every scenario - I've had KIDS.
Kids destroy your perspective for life.

Which inspires me to issue every warning in the book... starting with...

"She's about 4 ounces and 6" long - be careful when you sit on the couch so you don't flatten her like a pancake!"......"Keep the basement pocket door shut AT ALL TIMES or we'll never see her again!"... "THROW THE PLASTIC AWAY!"...

Oh my God... Kill Me...

She went to hop off the couch and I saw her breaking every bone in her body. I saw Grant look at me and laugh to himself. He doesn't think I saw him, BUT I DID!

Grant repeated the words, "They're indestructible" about 8000 times to me.
THEY ARE NOT!

Though, admittedly, I'm skeptical that this furry addition to the household even has any fully formed bones. She's sort of.. rubbery. She doesn't jump to the floor, she sort of just, bounces off of it.

To her credit, she was very, very good. She didn't fuss. She wasn't scared. She didn't seem to mind being mauled by my daughter who acts like she was the one that gave birth to her 7 weeks ago.

She's quite cute.

OR MAYBE SHE'S JUST TRYING TO LOOK ALL CUTE UNTIL SHE GETS UP IN THE MORNING AND STARTS EATING THE FABRIC OF THE COUCH AND TRIES TO THINK OF NEW AND EXCITING WAYS TO DIE ON ME WHILE THE GIRL CHILD IS AT SCHOOL.

What in the hell was I thinking when I said, "Yes"...

She was cute when she curled up and slept in the palm of my hand though while my daughter ate her dinner - because God forbid we let this animal have a second of peace to sleep wherever the hell she wants to - No, my daughter must transfer ownership and sleeping guard duty when she needs to do something.

Not that the kitten seems to care at all...

So, like an ass, there I was sitting on the couch with this miniature fur ball curled up, sound asleep in my hand - staring at it and questioning my good judgment.

Around 8pm I asked my daughter, "Did you take the little punk upstairs?"

The answer to that is she's all set up with her toys and whatever other stuff my daughter brought home with her, in her room.

...and I want credit for not once going up there to see if the cat is dead because my daughter rolled over on her in the middle of the night.