Pretty Kitty

This weekend I went to visit Joe. I arrived Friday evening while he was still at work and let myself into the apartment. I still have a key because Joe neglected one of the fundamental rules of breaking up: always get your key back. This rule is very important. It comes right after Rule 3 "avoid telling her about all those times she really did look fat in those jeans" but before Rule 5 "wait at least three days before dating anyone else to avoid appearing tacky." He's golden on 3 and 5 two but apparently the rule between slipped his mind.

So I let myself in and went to use the facilities which I was very much looking forward to since this would be my first pee in a while that would not necessitate holding on for dear life. I took my seat and took a gander around as I am oft to do in these situations to pass the time, when hanging on the wall at eye level to my immediate right I spied something new.




I'm sorry, what? Am I peeing in the wrong apartment? Are those two kitty cats I see? In front of rosy wallpaper and lace curtains? In a lovely pastoral setting? Why, yes, I do believe it is.

What's that? You'd like a close up? You only had to ask.

Joey, something you want to tell me? "My mom hung it. They look like the cats we had when I was little." Adorable. And you didn't tell her no or to put it somewhere else? "No, you can't stop that woman!" "Oh my goodness, I am SO blogging about this." "I don't think it's that funny." Oh, Joey, I will add this to the list of things you are so wrong about. I will also add it to the list of things I do so enjoy and love about you. Such a good son.