Have you ever been so tired you just wanted to cry? Where the smallest of disturbances threatens to push you over the edge? Yeah, well, that was me the other night.
We’d had a houseful of family over the Christmas holiday and our two new kittens were crazy balls of energy, and we’d been out to dinner several times and to COSI and to various friends’ houses for holiday visits. Added all up, it just left me plain exhausted.
On Saturday I looked at Vince and, in an admittedly VERY whiny tone, said, “I’m SO tired. I can’t believe I have to work tomorrow!” He, being the ever calming voice of reason replied, “No, you don’t, Janie. Tomorrow is Sunday.”
I swear it was right about that moment I heard the faint sounds of the Hallelujah Chorus sung by a choir of angels. Plus, I might have even gotten a little teary-eyed over the realization that I had at least one more day to recover.
We visited with some friends Saturday afternoon/evening and when I got home all I wanted to do was collapse on the couch. But our poor little kittens had been cooped up all day and wanted to play. So they ran around the place with the little bells on their collars jingling away, chasing each other, jumping on furniture they’re not supposed to be on, clawing stuff and basically being, well, kittens.
I promised myself that after I finished a few chores I’d get that chance to relax on the couch and then would head to bed early. So I cleaned kitty litter. And swept the floor where kitty litter had spilled. And refilled food and water bowls. And then I chased them around shooing them off the dining room table and the leather recliner, which they evidently think is their real scratching post.
Just watching them made me feel old and tired and cranky. I would have gone to bed right then and there, but I knew it wasn’t fair to the little furballs and I needed to give them a chance to burn off some pent-up energy.
Meanwhile, Vince, who was a little tired and cranky himself, went upstairs to bed.
So I sat on the couch resenting a little bit that I wasn’t able to head off to bed like Vince. And I almost regretted my decision to get not only one kitten, but two of them. Yeah, like one kitten wouldn’t have required just as much kitty litter cleaning and feeding and watering and shooing. The only benefit to having only one kitten as opposed to two is that perhaps I would’ve only had half as many scratches on my hands and arms and legs from the little, uh, angels.
Finally, I decided to just let them run and if they jumped up on the table or scratched the leather recliner, I’d let ‘em. So there I was almost asleep on the couch when I heard a crash from the dining room. I'm quite sure I did an exaggerated eye roll right about then, but I got up and went into the dining room...to discover that the kittens had knocked over a full glass of water that I’d forgotten about and had left on the table.
Yes, that was nearly the proverbial straw, but I clenched my teeth and got some paper towels to clean up the spill. I figured that at least it was water in a plastic cup and not a full glass of red wine in one of our crystal wineglasses. Small victories, eh?
Eventually, though, the kittens wore themselves out and climbed up in my lap, curled themselves into little balls, and fell asleep. Ah, bliss. It was nearly then that I fell asleep on the couch myself, except that Vince – wondering what had become of me – sent me a text asking me if I was coming to bed. The buzzing of the phone on the table woke up the kittens, who thought it was their kitty alarm indicating that it was play time. Again.
Sigh.
Nevertheless, I decided it was time to exert some authority, so I gathered them up and put them in their respective sleeping quarters and headed upstairs amid a chorus of loud meows as they registered their displeasure at being cooped up.
I felt bad, but I was so tired that I shut the bedroom door on their cries – and started to get ready for bed – with tears streaming down my face. Sheesh. What a baby! But, Vince, being the good husband he is, rubbed my aching neck and shoulders until I finally fell asleep.
It occurred to me sometime during the middle of the night that not only was I single the last time I had to deal with a kitten, but I was also 15 years younger. Plus I’ve never had two of them at the same time before. And kittens require a LOT of patience.
But they’re sweet and cuddly and are full of life and love. So I think we’ll keep ‘em. But the next time I make the decision to adopt a coupla kittens right before Christmas when we’re expecting a houseful of guests? I’m thinkin’ I’ll have to distract myself with a glass of red wine. A big one. Yeah, and I’ll drink it out of one of our crystal wineglasses. That should do it! And if it doesn’t, all I’ll need to do is take a quick gander at our surely by-then shredded leather recliner.
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