The kitten is coming next week!
I’m excited, and I really hope she gets along with Tiger and Jinx, because Tiger lays on my bed half the day and little Merrill (yes, her name is going to be Merrill. Like Dragon Age. She already sounds like a sweetheart so it fits) is going to be staying in my room while she settles in.
Dad doesn’t even have to see her, and I know he’s still pissed because I inadvertantely went over his head when trying to convince the adults in the house. (He said no, I talked to the grandparents, and then I was planning to talk to him about it.) But he’s at least a little fond of the cats we do have, so he’s definitely not going to hate her. the grandparents are already in love with her, I think.
But Dad says he gets to pick the next animal we get. Which means it’s going to be a big dog. But that’s in the far future, and if he is true to his word when he says “one of these days I’m moving out,” then it won’t even be the grandparents’ problem.
I feel the tiniest bit like an expectant mother. Except for very obvious things. Like the fact I’m seventeen and the baby is a kitten.
…I’m going to turn into a cat lady when I’m all grown up, aren’t I?