By Tiber
I walked by my sister Iris Nell’s bedroom and heard such a loud rumbling, I thought for a second she was riding around on a power mower. Of course, the fact that I even considered this as a possibility proves how weird this family is.
It turned out it was just Paracelsus, our cat, who loves Iris Nell so much, that his purr box was revving on high.
And I got to thinking, why can’t a woman be more like a cat?
The thing about cats is, they give off very clear signals – so wouldn’t it be great if women could purr too? Then, whenever they liked something, you’d be spared a 1500 word monologue on the topic because they’d just start purring and you’d know!
And how many millions of men could have avoided the humiliation of being rejected when they stopped and delivered their best pick-up line? If it was going to be a “no,” before a dude even got there, a cat-woman would hiss and bare her teeth and all of her hair would stand up on end, allowing the guy to just keep on moving right past, as if he was just heading to the bathroom, his dignity intact.
I’d also be fine with the lap-sitting. And clothing-wise, what guy doesn’t like a good cat-suit? Now that I think about it, though, that’s not really an inheritance from cats, is it? Actually, if you saw your neighbor’s cat constantly sporting a cat-suit, I really think you might have to call PETA.
Anyway, a cat-woman would also really help me out right now in the “short of cash” department. It would save you a lot of money to date someone who, instead of wanting dinner and a movie, would be just as happy enjoying dinner and a piece of string.
Of course, it’s true that she might cough up the occasional furball in a restaurant. But I think most people know the Heimlich maneuver by now, so my guess is, we would both be just fine.
