The Little Sleeping Devils

       It all started when Mico and Sienna found out that Theo was the chosen one. The one picked to follow in Chuck's footsteps. The one who would be going on the next long distance, air plane in the sky flying trip adventure. And they would be staying home.

        Theo has gone on a few one day trips so he's used to car rides, backpacks, behaving himself as much as he can. He buys into the whole idea that traveling and being the star of Hot Blogging with Chuck is an honor and a privilege. Sort of.

       The conversation goes something like this: 

      "Can I sleep on the plane?"

       "Yes."

       "Will there be extra snacks?"

        "What kind of snacks, Theo?"

        "There has to be snacks. See?"

        "All right. Extra snacks."

         Theo always gets straight to the point. 

         "Do they know about my going?"

         Theo is no dummy. He sees the suitcases on the bed. He sees the extra food stacked up on the counter. He knows I've been in contact with the cat sitter. He's put two and two together. On the other hand, the kittens are clueless. They have no idea what a suitcase is and what it means and how it will affect their lives. 

          Until they do. 

          "What does it mean, Theo? Are they coming back?" Mico wants to know. 

           "Of course, we're coming back," I want to shout, but Theo is in deep conversation with Mico. Theo's the alpha cat and needs to handle the questions.

           "This time I'm going. See? Next time, maybe you can go."

           What? That isn't the plan. 

           "Are you coming back, Theo?" Mico asks again.

           I glance into the room. Theo has draped his arm around Mico, big cat brother style. "It's called a vacation. It doesn't last long."

           That's the truth. 

            And, so I think the matter is settled. It isn't. Theo's last statement that next time Mico can go rattles Sienna. Because . . . now she wants to go. Of course, I don't know this until all hell breaks loose. 

            First, they avoid each other. Two kittens, who can't stand to be apart for longer than a mini-second, now are hanging out in separate rooms and barely meowing with each other.

            Then, they are chasing each other through the house like a bunch of wild banshees. First a steak of white and gray. Then a streak of orange. Down the stairs. Through the hallway. Across the living room. Treacherous turn into the kitchen. Through the hallway. Up the stairs. It sounds as if we have 100 kittens racing through the house. 

            Finally, the fight. On the master bed. Which by some stroke of luck I've covered in a green blanket to keep their cat fur off of the comforter. Now it can protect the comforter from any blood stains. if it gets to that.

            It doesn't. It seems the "fight" is only a wrestling match between two spoiled kittens who both want what they can't have. 

            Theo later tells me he solved the entire problem (he caused.)

            "Well, what happened?"

            "I grounded them. See?"

            "And no snacks?"

            Theo looks horrified. 

             "Where are they now?"

             "Sleeping."

        "Like angels," I want to say, but I know the truth--those little sleeping devils!