Susan's Blog

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Life With Cato

I’m dating myself (but I think I’m a pretty fun date!)… but I was thinking about Inspector Clouseau of Pink Panther fame because of Benji. No, Benji is not a bumbling detective. Quite the opposite. It is more that I am Clouseau, and he is — Cato. Cato was the servant that Clouseau hired to keep his instincts “sharp.” Cato’s job was to jump out at Clouseau and force him to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

Today, while I was wandering around picking up, I headed upstairs, figuring I would straighten beds and start my shower (our 120 year old house has strange plumbing, needless to say, so you have to turn on the shower a bit in advance of taking one if you want the water to be hot; and that is in the one modern bathroom!). I realized I hadn’t seen or heard Ben in a while. I looked in his room, and saw a familiar lump under the covers. Was he back in bed? Too odd, even for Ben. I went up to the lump and gingerly poked at it. It did not respond. I yanked back the covers — aha! BlueBeary and a pile of sweatshirts! Oh no! That meant Benji was on the loose and about to jump out at me from somewhere.
“Ben?” I called, halfheartedly, knowing I was doomed.
But nothing happened. Oh well. It was time for my shower; the water was probably reasonably warm by now. Took my shower, emerged fresh and dewy.
As soon as I opened the bathroom door, there he was. YOW! AAAGH!
“Mom, I was hiding in the couch waiting for you!”
Be still, my heart. I adore that little guy.

3 comments

IN the couch?? That’s impressive!
Alena’s favorite game is “Boo!” She’s an eloper so when she gets really quiet I have to check to make sure she didn’t escape and is actually just playing in my room. When she sees me looking, she’ll jump out and go BOO! It’s really cute.

— added by Jen on Friday, August 11, 2006 at 10:33 am

Next time you see the lump, you know what you have to say … “Where are you, my little yellow friend?”

— added by Anne on Friday, August 11, 2006 at 11:38 pm

My mornings begin, usually, withy ME being the big lump underneath a down comforter and Tony bounding in the door after a bath saying “WAKE UP DAD!”

Since our latest adventure in Fructose Intolerance, I have been awoken with the sound of hysterical screaming and a high-pitched shrill voice.

Yesterday, however, after figuring out our latest poison to his system…I was met with questioning eyes, a steady gaze…and the insistent phrase of “wake up dad…wake up…WAKE UP!”

My own Cato had come back to haunt me.

It was a welcome reprieve…

Anton’s thoughts on being a father of Being Tony

— added by Anton on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 11:38 pm

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