The Real Gift Is A Relative Who Understands Your Pets
A few Christmases ago, my younger sister brought her boyfriend to our family gathering. The largest box under the tree was addressed to “[Younger Sister] and Cats”.
Sister’s Boyfriend: “We appreciate the gift, but you know the cats are just going to play with the box.”
Me: “Their gift is the box.”
[Sister’s Boyfriend] stared at me with the open-faced shock of someone whose mind has just been blown.
I had bought the largest box possible at an office supply store, cut a pet door in the side, and reinforced the corners with duct tape.
It’s Wednesday. I’m wearing a slightly scruffy black hooded top and jeans. I’m probably looking like something out of ‘The Walking Dead’ thanks to chronic pain and lack of sleep, but I’ve tagged along with my parents to go to a garden centre – no matter how post-death I feel, I found that the older I get the less I can resist plants.
I also cannot resist a cute cat.
This is a problem because it seems this particular garden centre had a resident cat. I couldn’t resist, and when he jumped onto an empty display at petting height, I just HAD to give him some fuss.
I was stood there for a few minutes just giving this little guy the best ear scratches then began to walk away. And then… cue the following customer:
Customer: “Excuse me! I’m talking to you!”
I turn around.
Customer: “Finally! Now perhaps you can answer my question! Do you do mixed begonias?”
Me: “Sorry?”
Customer: “Do. You. Do. Mixed. Begonias?”
Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t work here.”
Customer: “But you were stroking that thing!”
Me: “The cat? Yes. I was. I still don’t work here.”
The woman huffed and stormed off. I left, a little bewildered, but not without giving the cat one last head rub. I am now firmly decided that I definitely do not want to go back to retail, and I definitely do want a cat when the time is right.
Never Pick A Fight With An Old Irish Woman, Part 2
Our bookshop has a café built into it. On certain weekday afternoons, we run a coffee hour for members of the retiree community. Most of the attendees are women and it gives them a great opportunity to stretch their legs, get caught up on gossip, etc.
I am checking out another customer, not a local, who is buying an item that comes with a voucher.
Me: “Sir, just to let you know you qualify for a free hot drink in our shop’s café with this purchase.”
Customer: “Hot drink?”
Me: “Yes, like a tea or coffee.”
Customer: “You sell coffee?”
Me: “The café does, right behind you.”
The customer turns around, sees the café, and then turns back to me.
Customer: “What’s with the geriatric convention?”
Me: “It’s… not. It’s just a coffee afternoon for the community. It’s open to all ages.”
Customer: “Do they all smell like wet cabbage?”
Me: “What?!”
Customer: “I heard old people smell like wet cabbage.”
As he is saying this, one of the members of the coffee afternoon, an older lady who buys books from me regularly, has walked over to say hello. She’s caught the tail end of this conversation.
Regular: “Well you look and smell like an ill-designed spice rack!”
Customer: Surprised at the sudden appearance of a little old lady. “Don’t be so sour, Granny Smith!”
Regular: “First I’m a cabbage and now I’m an apple?! Make your mind up, you unripe melon!”
Customer: Not so much storming out as running away. “I’m not a melon!”
After he’s gone and I’ve tried to process this bizarre fruits and vegetables laden exchange.
Me: “Sorry about that.”
Regular: “Oh, you’re fine, dear. I know that little t*** from when I used to be the lollipop lady* at [local school]. Even back then he was so stupid he could count his balls three times and get three different numbers.”
The man and I stay home a lot, too. He likes to cook, I like to eat : ) Too many animals to keep after to leave for any length of time without a live in while we are gone care-taker anyway.
Yakety Sax about 1 month ago
The Real Gift Is A Relative Who Understands Your Pets
A few Christmases ago, my younger sister brought her boyfriend to our family gathering. The largest box under the tree was addressed to “[Younger Sister] and Cats”.
Sister’s Boyfriend: “We appreciate the gift, but you know the cats are just going to play with the box.”
Me: “Their gift is the box.”
[Sister’s Boyfriend] stared at me with the open-faced shock of someone whose mind has just been blown.
I had bought the largest box possible at an office supply store, cut a pet door in the side, and reinforced the corners with duct tape.
Yakety Sax about 1 month ago
I Don’t Work Here, But The Cat Does
It’s Wednesday. I’m wearing a slightly scruffy black hooded top and jeans. I’m probably looking like something out of ‘The Walking Dead’ thanks to chronic pain and lack of sleep, but I’ve tagged along with my parents to go to a garden centre – no matter how post-death I feel, I found that the older I get the less I can resist plants.
I also cannot resist a cute cat.
This is a problem because it seems this particular garden centre had a resident cat. I couldn’t resist, and when he jumped onto an empty display at petting height, I just HAD to give him some fuss.
I was stood there for a few minutes just giving this little guy the best ear scratches then began to walk away. And then… cue the following customer:
Customer: “Excuse me! I’m talking to you!”
I turn around.
Customer: “Finally! Now perhaps you can answer my question! Do you do mixed begonias?”
Me: “Sorry?”
Customer: “Do. You. Do. Mixed. Begonias?”
Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t work here.”
Customer: “But you were stroking that thing!”
Me: “The cat? Yes. I was. I still don’t work here.”
The woman huffed and stormed off. I left, a little bewildered, but not without giving the cat one last head rub. I am now firmly decided that I definitely do not want to go back to retail, and I definitely do want a cat when the time is right.
Yakety Sax about 1 month ago
Never Pick A Fight With An Old Irish Woman, Part 2
Our bookshop has a café built into it. On certain weekday afternoons, we run a coffee hour for members of the retiree community. Most of the attendees are women and it gives them a great opportunity to stretch their legs, get caught up on gossip, etc.
I am checking out another customer, not a local, who is buying an item that comes with a voucher.
Me: “Sir, just to let you know you qualify for a free hot drink in our shop’s café with this purchase.”
Customer: “Hot drink?”
Me: “Yes, like a tea or coffee.”
Customer: “You sell coffee?”
Me: “The café does, right behind you.”
The customer turns around, sees the café, and then turns back to me.
Customer: “What’s with the geriatric convention?”
Me: “It’s… not. It’s just a coffee afternoon for the community. It’s open to all ages.”
Customer: “Do they all smell like wet cabbage?”
Me: “What?!”
Customer: “I heard old people smell like wet cabbage.”
As he is saying this, one of the members of the coffee afternoon, an older lady who buys books from me regularly, has walked over to say hello. She’s caught the tail end of this conversation.
Regular: “Well you look and smell like an ill-designed spice rack!”
Customer: Surprised at the sudden appearance of a little old lady. “Don’t be so sour, Granny Smith!”
Regular: “First I’m a cabbage and now I’m an apple?! Make your mind up, you unripe melon!”
Customer: Not so much storming out as running away. “I’m not a melon!”
After he’s gone and I’ve tried to process this bizarre fruits and vegetables laden exchange.
Me: “Sorry about that.”
Regular: “Oh, you’re fine, dear. I know that little t*** from when I used to be the lollipop lady* at [local school]. Even back then he was so stupid he could count his balls three times and get three different numbers.”
FreyjaRN Premium Member about 1 month ago
Hubby and I are content to be home with our three cats. They are better behaved than so many humans.
Macushlalondra about 1 month ago
7 kitties? Aunty is a lady after my own heart.
The Reader Premium Member about 1 month ago
Now she is a cat aunty!
walstib Premium Member about 1 month ago
I guess we can infer who she voted for.
dflak about 1 month ago
“I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” – Winston Churchill.
Dkram about 1 month ago
Is Aunty a crazy cat lady?
\\//_
cmjackson4 about 1 month ago
After one trip to Walmart, I totally agree with her.
assrdood about 1 month ago
I still like dogs better that people!
Daltongang Premium Member about 1 month ago
But how do the pets feel about it Aunty?
ladykat about 1 month ago
Same here, Aunty!
pheets about 1 month ago
The man and I stay home a lot, too. He likes to cook, I like to eat : ) Too many animals to keep after to leave for any length of time without a live in while we are gone care-taker anyway.
ThreeDogDad Premium Member about 1 month ago
Of all the people I know, I like my dog the best.
wildlandwaters about 1 month ago
too true… too true…..
cuzinron47 about 1 month ago
And we are happy to have you out of circulation as one of perpetrators.
crazeekatlady about 1 month ago
I have a kitty shaped ceramic wall hanging, “The more men I meet, the Better I like my cats.”
rockyridge1977 about 1 month ago
With that many……need all day to take care!!!!
62kathleenhicks about 1 month ago
Dog, hubby, TV and Drs.
olds_cool63 about 1 month ago
VERY wise words, Aunty!
Drgnslr Premium Member about 1 month ago
I’m not so sure auntie would like to see what my cat does when he sees a rabbit.
cactusbob333 about 1 month ago
Why do Aunty not have any doggies. I thought we were frens.
Katzi428 about 1 month ago
Aunty’s preachin’ the choir!
David Culver about 1 month ago
I believe it was St. Augustine who said, “Every time I go out I come back less a man.”
Smeagol about 1 month ago
No arguments here.