Sorry if I sound a little desperate. I’ve been in this room for days with this weird cat staring at me and I’m beginning to wonder if they are ever going to let me out. I can hear the birds outside, Wimbledon is going on somewhere, and there is a moon shining down on which men once walked. I am getting no closer to any of that. After just five days, life is passing me by! You’ve heard of Stockholm Syndrome? You know, when a captive begins to respect, even love, his captors? It happened to Patty Hearst, and I think it’s happening to me. My dad is so kind and mom is so sweet, but that might just be the oxytocin in my momma’s milk talking.
I have to snap out of this and figure out how to work a doorknob.
Wait a sec, total changeup this morning. They loaded me up in a car seat. You see that orange guy in the picture? I thought he was just a cat, but he is actually a quality control inspector who makes sure that my dad is doing everything right.
After a short ride it all became clear.They were taking me to my doctor, who was just down the street.
They put me up on a table and stripped me down to my diaper. I have this thing where I bicycle my legs really fast? I think it’s my super power, intended to strike fear into adversaries. The doctor wasn’t intimidated at all, though. She calmly went on with her examination, taking my temperature, listening to my heart, saying that my touch of jaundice would soon go away, and predicting that if I limited myself to one glass of wine a day I should have about ten good decades ahead of me. I was about to tell her that I was looking forward to the classy under-appreciated varietals like Mourvèdre and Cabernet Franc when my parents started talking about my poop (again!) I am beginning to wonder when they will be able to just move on and find another topic to obsess about. I mean, aren’t they aware that a crucial election is coming up?
Anyhoo, the sun was nice, there was fresh air, and I saw a bird. To me, that means the trip was worth it. See you later.