“NO! He has to come down stairs with me. Think of your asthma!”
“But I am lovin him.” [Translation – crushing the life breath out of the poor creature.]
“Come on. Let go of him now.”
“But he is havin Unis! Why I am not having Rascal? You are dah meany!”
“Hey! Hand over that cat. I want Unis and Rascal downstairs pronto!”
“Why you are speak di Italian?”
“It's American. Let go. Let go now!”
“No you are letting go! His tail will be coming off. I don wunn dah Manx cat.”
“Where did you learn about Manx cats?”
“I don know.”
“What is a Manx cat?” I check because the speech delays strain my powers of auditory processing.
“You are such a dumb ass! It is being dah cat wivout dah tail.” When they attempt to swear with an American accent, my rib cage expands. When they attempt to translate it into English, I squirm – dum arse!
“Both of you now! That's enough. You cannot sleep with cats!”
“But we are dah lonely ones!”
“What do you mean?”
“We are never havin dah sleep overs.”
“You want to go and sleep in somebody else's house?”
“No! We are wantin dah uvver friends to be comin to be sleepin in our houses, er, house.”
“So you're telling me that if we have sleepovers, you'll let the cats go free?” I need them to remain alive due to their “therapeutic value,” as speech therapists.
Sorta! How did that happen? Career possibilities open up. Negotiator? Or maybe…..not extortionist!
At least only when exploiting certain lesser beings in the food chain.