Tuesday, February 07, 2006

What Not To Name The Baby

While putting the dishes away yesterday, I noticed we're missing some steak knives. The knife block holds eight, but for some reason we're down to just five.

When my daughter was younger, spoons would often go missing in the summer, but usually I'd find them in the sandbox out back. And when I was a kid forks would vanish, then re-appear in the silverware drawer slightly bent (we had a rabbit cage that was hard to open, and forks were often used as a substitue for a crow-bar). But knives? Knives don't usually disappear.

This morning I was in my customary spot, planted on the sofa sipping the coffee Hubby was kind enough to bring me, when Sammy jumped on the dining room table. Cats are not allowed on the tables in this house, but Sammy hasn't figured that out yet. Or doesn't care, I'm not sure which. At any rate, while I contemplated whether I was awake enough to get up and shoo him off, he knocked something onto the floor then jumped down after it. Hearing it hit the floor with a clang, I figured I better go get it before he spirited off something important like my car keys. So I pryed myself off the couch and went to investigate.

Sammy didn't have car keys. Sammy had a steak knife. And he very quickly knocked it far enough under the table that I had to move a chair and get down on my hands and knees to retrieve it.

Now I'm thinking I should start checking under furniture for the missing knives. Believe me, I really don't want to see what's under that sofa. And I'm wondering...Is it normal for kittens to collect knives? Should I start sleeping with one eye open? I know we named him Samauri, but I didn't expect him to take the name seriously.

The next cat we get is going to be called Cuddles.

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 10:24 AM :: 6 Comments:

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