In many ways Cato from the Pink Panther movies and I share many similarities. We're both Chinese, both man-servants to clueless inspectors, and are skilled in the ways of an oriental kitchen. No, that's not right. Ah, that's it, we both lurk in readiness to attack our master. In my case the master being theBoy (we live to serve; swish!, swish!).
I'm always trying to grab him for cuddles, squeezes, tummy rubs, belly button pinches (he is an outie, big-time) and tushie grabs. Since he's a smart little Chooky he's learned to adapt. He keeps a wary distance when he goes past me, his hand hovering behind him ready to block any tushie grab attempts. Or, if I call him, he makes sure not to enter my grab zone because otherwise I will lash out, snake-like, to grab his arm then pull him towards me for cuddles.
He came to me while I was still lying abed in the end room, my glasses on the shelf behind me. He wanted to show me his kewl underpants. They did indeed look kewl. But I couldn't see them properly, what with not having my glasses.
'Come closer, Noodles,' I said. 'So I can see you. I don't have my glasses.'
He didn't move.
'Where are your glasses, daddy?' he asked.
'I don't know, Chooky,' I lied. 'Now come closer so I can see you.'
He didn't move.
'I can't see you properly,' I complained.
'Your glasses!' he said again. A statement I suppose.
'Don't know where they are,' I moaned, lying again.
Then he left. Curses!
No comments:
Post a Comment