Mom said I made a mess in the kitchen. That I tracked in grass and mud.
Well, boy, you did actually make a mess. You always make a mess when you wear your wellies.
But, Midnight, we had to walk through the tall grass to get to the tall tree. And there was mud, so we had to walk in it.
But, boy. You did not just walk in the mud. You stomped in the mud. See, I have to clean my fur!
She
yelled at me. She said, “You are seven years old, and should know
better than to….” But, I stopped listening, so I don’t know what she
said next.
Yes, boy. You should know better. I am only three, and I know not to make a mess!
Midnight, you’re a cat. Cats are different. They don’t wear wellies.
Yes, boy, we are different. WE don’t splash in mud. Oh, look! The woman is opening the door! She has…
Mum! Biscuits! I promise, I will be careful next time.
No, boy. You will not be more careful, but the mother knows that.
