Meet the bane of my existence and my daughter’s favorite toy: PINK KITTY
Because it is tiny and favored and hates my happiness, Pink Kitty is lost several times a day.
In the morning, I am greeted by: Mama, where’s pink kitty?
The rest of my day is filled with variations: Mama, why haven’t you found pink kitty? Mama, I looked everywhere for pink kitty and she’s gooooonnnnnneeeee. Mama, is pink kitty okay? I haven’t seen her in DAAAYYYYYSSSSS. Mama, will you look again for pink kitty? Mama, I can’t sleep without pink kitty.
I have finally met a cat I hate. She does not come when called. She does not meow when lost. My daughter doesn’t mean to lose her, but Pink kitty is wily and mean and fits in seat cushions, pillow cases and random kitschy boxes that I’ve never opened until Pink Kitty appeared. In fact, I cannot think of a place I have NOT found Pink Kitty.
She is second only to my daughter’s blanket, which makes her more important than me. Perhaps it is because Pink Kitty ambled onto the scene as we were beginning the anti-paci crusade. I HAVE NO ENERGY TO FIGHT THE KITTY AFTER WORLD WAR PACIFIER. And it knew it.
I know. I know. Buy some backups. Maybe 6 or 10 or 1500. Well, in order to buy backup Pink Kitty, I have to purchase a $12 Twilight Sparkle on a Scooter set. Yes, this My Little Pony brought a My Little Nemesis.
Perhaps, I could justify one more set. Isn’t my sanity worth it? But then I stumble over Twilight Sparkle’s scooter helmet at the bottom of the stairs FOR THE LAST WEEK because my daughter does not care about her scooter-ing ability. She can break her brain all she wants as long as Pink Kitty is safe and sound.
I would be purchasing a plastic pink kitty smaller than my pinkie finger for $12 and every morning I would be greeted with my daughter’s sad eyes: Mama, where are my pink kitty sisters? They are missing.