And Of Course Ryan Slept Through It

I've had this bear, Snuggles, since I was just shy of three years old.

It's that bear from the Snuggles fabric softener, and the only reason my mother got it for me for Christmas was to win an ongoing argument we had as to whether or not Snuggles really had the ability to walk, talk, and fall gently into a pile of laundry while giggling. That my mother had to shell out twenty bucks to win an argument with a two year old is neither here nor there, really. The point of this story is I still have Snuggles and he is still basically intact. The stuffing is a little less stuffy and his eyes and nose are all scratched up from when I would chew on them at night to fall asleep. I also scratched out his tongue because I found the bright pink to be garish. Okay, so aside from some toddler Guantanamo treatment, Snuggles is totally fine.

When we were at my parent's house this past weekend, I found Snuggles and thought, Hey, I should bring him back with me. He can sit on the bed. It will be cute. I did not think, My cats are completely insane, view this stuffed bear as a threat to national security, and treat it as such. It's becoming increasingly clear I still have no idea what I'm doing with two cats and someone should have made me pass some basic psychological competency test before letting me out the door of the animal shelter with a kitten.

Snuggles got wedged up between two pillows on our bed while we slept. Our bed is huge and I don't think either one of us really remembered Snuggles was still up there. At least I know that I didn't until it was three in the morning and I had a sixteen pound marmalade tabby cat on my stomach and an eight pound grey tabby sitting on my forehead, working in tandem to investigate, abduct, and probably destroy the innocent childhood relic. I'm not someone who wakes up in any sane manner. Sometimes there's tears or screaming. There's always a wide-eyed terror-filled look of confusion. Waking up wearing almost twenty-five pounds of cat was... well, I'll be honest: it wasn't one of my proudest moments, considering I punched the big cat in the face. Once the first punch was thrown, the little cat clung to Snuggles. I think he knew I wouldn't hurt the bear. I pryed his grubby paws off the bear, rolled out of bed, stumbled into the closet door, opened the closet door, and then put the bear on the highest shelf.

The next morning, I woke up and rolled over to find two cats sitting on the nightstand, both looking at me with malice in their hearts.

Comments

[Adie]

In life with cats it sometimes becomes imperative to throw an elbow.

[jagosaurus]

Hahahahahahahahaha.

[mom]

The picture of you is so cute. It almost made me cry. I am so glad that you rescued Snuggles. I enjoyed your post.
love you
Mom