Well, it actually IS that time of the month, however...this post is NOT about Aunt Flo. Or her perfectly timed visit that coincided with Aunt Fay - the pissed off diva of tropical weather that just made my property waterfront and thought my neighbor needed to mix up the woods in her living room furniture and kindly introduced OAK - as in TREE, trunk and all, into the mix.
NOPE. This is about what happens when you let your children name their pets.
2 weeks ago we adopted 2 kittens. However, my boys were at their dad's (my ex-husband) the week we got to bring them home (yes, the man i live with is not their dad - more on that later, let's just say i got wiser as i got older).
Because i wanted to let THEM name them - i just called them whatever was top of mind when i was looking at them - at one point i think i was calling the girl "GODDAM IT, MOVE ALREADY BEFORE I SQUASH YOU." and i think the boy was "LOOK YOU- poo goes IN the litterbox".
Anyway, the boys eventually came home and promptly named them.
Thing 1: "I want to call mine Mini because she's so little".
Thing 2: "I want to call mine Max".
Seriously. The Kotex Kittens. How nice. For your not so fresh litterbox days.
Me: "Boys, i think we should sleep on this - let's try out lots of names before we settle on it."
Them: "No - we've got it - this is perfect."
And all i have to say is...of course it is. Because this is what happens in my house. ALL THE TIME.
Meet Maxi and Mini. Ok, so T2 named him Max, not Maxi...but after reading about my family so far, what do you think he's being called?