Karen's Mom is not Rush Limbaugh

As most of you are probably aware, this is my 100th post.

Is that not exciting or what?

Anyway, Karen suggested since this is mother's day weekend I should write about her mom.

Now explain to me why I would want to spend my 100th post writing about Karen's mom?

"Because it would be a nice thing to do," Karen said. "Plus it might score you some points with her after that little attempt on her life last month."

First of all, since I am a cat, I'm not into "scoring some points". She should think of me like those Vogue interns consider Anna Wintour: complete and total fear.

"But she's nice to you," Karen told me. "She feeds you when you come over to visit. She buys you treats and toys at Christmas. You even have a stocking."

Big deal. She also has a fit if she find me on the kitchen counters. I once took a nap in a mixing bowl inside a kitchen cabinet and she started freaking out. (Mixing bowls were made for naps-- why isn't she aware of this?) In the morning she expects me to get out of the recliner so that she can sit and read the paper. She won't even let me sit on the newspaper. What makes it worse is that she's too chicken to deal with me herself. Oh no, Karen's mom is a tattler.

"Karen can you get your cat out of my chair?" she asks. "She won't jump out."

So Karen moves me out of the recliner and onto the couch. In the process, I usually glare at Karen's mom.

A couple of years ago, Karen went out of town and left Sadie and I with her parents. Since Karen's parent's house was under construction and the entire back was open to the world, Karen locked us upstairs in the master bedroom before she left. Sadie didn't care about this too much, as time spent at Karen's parents is mostly under a bed anyway.

Karen's mom opened the door when she got home from work and, of course, I walked out, as I didn't think it was appropriate for me to be confined to one room of the house. Karen's mom chased me down and grabbed me and then we got into a little bit of a wrestling match, which resulted in Karen's mom getting scratched.

That's the price you pay for confining me.

"That cat is mean," she told Karen. "Everyone is scared of her."

What's her point?

Anyway, happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out in cyberland. And, I guess, since Karen mentioned it, happy Mother's Day to Karen's mom as well, even if she won't let me sit on the newspaper in the morning.

Go 'Stros.