Inspired by the 90s film, Ten Things I Hate About You and the poem, “Kat” (Julia Stiles) recites about Patrick (the steamy hot, Heath Ledger) at the end. I wrote a blog post on the Ten Things I Hate About “You”. Well it was sort of inspired by the film …
But actually, it was more than the film that inspired the post… it was that one evening Munchkin did #1 and while I was contemplating how to rescue her… I started writing Ten Things I Hate About You… because at the time, I wasn’t pleased. So here we go …
#1 I Hate The Way You:
Jump on the roof of the patio, from my window on the second floor and I can’t get down to get you, or up to fetch you. So, I dangerously climb the dodgy step ladder, with my dressage crop that’s been finished with a sparkle wand and try at least coax you close to the end of the roof, so that I can grab you. Instead you roll around on your back, drink the bilharzia water in the gutter and run away from the breeze.
So, I get a food sachet and dangle it and all you do is peek. And just as I want to grab you, you elusively slip my reach and go further gnaw at vrot things on the roof (from the last time I tried to rescue you). So eventually, I must secure a bag strap around the step ladder, close it, lower it out of the window, while it is suspended in mid-air, open it and place it on the roof (holding on the baggage strap). Then try to coax you up the ladder encouragingly, with your favourite tutu.
And I spend more than an hour doing this… and you look smugly like the Cheshire cat on catnip, during my futile rescue attempt.
#2 I Hate The Way You:
Choose my freshly lint rolled black pants or tights as your favourite item to rub against. Leaving them looking like I shaved last Christmas, which is totally a possibility (and probably the reason I am wearing said pants or tights). So, I “lol” and lint roll again and then just as I apply my lipstick or tinkle for the last time, you sneak in another rub-dub-dub session and I give up and take your DNA evidence with me in the car, my office chair, the movies – the world.
#3 I Hate The Way You:
Wake up at 3 am and climb in a box, drawer, or on a table or on important documents and you do the electric shuffle because you know I am going to get up and feed/pet/love you to stop. And then you repeat this every 30 minutes, until my alarm sounds, and I have to get up…
#4 I Hate The Way You:
Believe that I have neglected you by not being home for an hour or two; so you retaliate by taking a fish sachet and biting holes in it and squishing out the fish contents so that my whole bedroom is covered with a sardine milkshake. Five sachets later and my room is adequately covered with tuna perfume and bits of packaging.
#5 I Hate The Way You:
Decide to present me with a gift. So, you go to the garden and take my least favourite creature, like a fat greedy locust; you torture it to death and then hide the corpse in my favourite fluffy TV throw. And then I play with it without knowing and then become aware that I am playing with something that feels like biltong – but I am not eating biltong and I am horrified at the mutilated Acrididae critter. And blood curdling screams follow …
#6 I Hate The Way You:
Try run away from a good old cuddle and squish because you like being mysterious, elusive and exclusive. And when I do eventually capture the sneaky cuteness ball that you are – you turn your head skyward and alas; your kissy face is hidden from me.
#7 I Hate The Way You:
Have a wonky eye, or sore hip, or uncomfortable paw but when I take you to the vet, you pretend nothing is wrong … And suddenly your eyes are dazzling, your hip swell, your paw grand and all above board.
#8 I Hate The Way You:
Meow (until I am near death) to feed you and when I put wet food in your bowl – you give me the look that says: “off with your head peasant” as you cat walk disdainfully away.
#9 I Hate The Way You:
Refuse me the right to work on my laptop, read a book or do anything that even slightly “detracts” from you or distracts my attention from you. This includes Christmas decorations apparently ….
#10 But Mostly I Hate The Way:
“I don’t hate you; not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”