I could probably make “conversations with Mara” into a series. That child. She is a talker! And she takes everything very literally. She’s four. She doesn’t quite understand sarcasm yet.
Since she arrived she has been asking me what the grey kitty’s name is. I keep telling her, “It’s Smokey.” Then she goes, “Hi, Smokey.” When she tries to pet him, Smokey runs away. Because he’s an asshole!
But every single day since she arrived, “What’s the grey kitty’s name?”
This morning Smokey was being his normal assholey self, which means picking on poor Boots. He chased Boots out of the kitchen, onto the couch, then bop-bop-bopped him about the noggin, knocking him off the couch. Melissa has never witnessed Smokey’s assholery before and goes, “DUDE! Don’t be a dick!” We say this on a daily basis to Smokey. Then Melissa goes, “He’s the original GRUMPY CAT!”
About ten minutes later Mara was in the kitchen and spotted Smokey under the table.
She crouched down, patted her knees, and goes, “Come here Grumpy!”
THAT name she remembers on the first try? Really, Mara!?