Showering James

To answer the question everyone is thinking: (Well, ok, no one is probably thinking it, everyone is too busy being shocked Ricky Martin is gay. What's next? Oprah is talky? You think you know someone. . .)

Anyway, the question:
Yes, it is still weird to look down and see my cat between my legs when I'm in the shower.

(**I just deleted seventeen thousand jokes involving the words - P&%#y, vagina cat, kitten, your mom, your mom's vagine, loofah, and shaving**)(See! I'm growing!)

He just gets in there and starts yelling at me because he's getting wet and soapy, and all I can do is repeat, "Hi honey what are you doing?" Meow-yell. "What are you doing in here?" Meow-yell. "What's wrong?" Meow-yell. And my pitch gets so high he can't even hear it, because for some reason when I talk to the cat I sound like I just sucked down seven helium balloons, but with the dog I use my James Earl Jones voice, and anyway, every time my mouth moves at him he starts yelling again, all pissed off because he got some Herbal Essence in his eyes and I start all over again, "Hi honey, what's wrong? What are you doing in here?" as if I expect him to answer me (because sometimes I do) and then finally we get out of the shower and he lets me dry him off, but he's still all pissed he just had to sit through that, and I'm all, "James, I don't make you get in there." and he's all, "But you're never home so when you are I want to be near you." and I'm all, "I'm not home because I'm at work all day making money, so I can put food on the table, and so you can sit on the blanket all day licking your no-no." and he's all, "I eat off the floor!" and I'm all, "You know what I mean!" and he's all, "Do I?", and I'm all, "Where do you think that china bowl you're eating out of came from?" and he's all, "That's your mom's wedding china!" and I'm all, "Well I want you to have the best!", and then we storm off to different parts of my room, I cross my arms and scowl at the wall, and he gets up on my dresser and knocks some things over. After a few seconds though we turn and look at each other, and he starts purring and I'm all, "I'm sorry I got mad!" and he's all, "It's cool I'm a cat, I don't even know what you're talking about, I'm purring." and then he does his slow blinky thing he does when we're bffs and suddenly I realize I'm cuddling with my cat while I'm naked and I need to get my clothes on fast before claws end up somewhere they really, really shouldn't be.

Anyway I'm thinking about upping my crazy and just buying him a little kitty raincoat. Because, let's face it, I'm already walking him around my backyard on a leash, I might as well go the whole nine yards and start buying him shower gear.

I'm sorry John Krasinski, that this is what you have to look forward to. I promise I'll normal-up after tax season. I hope.