notes of jubilee

I may have mentioned that we have new kittens. My chickadees are still enamored with each of them, though, Patches seems to be the hands down favorite. I think she learned early to be malleable both physically and temperamentally. She does belong to Whirling Dervish, after all.

He is quick to scold and seems to look for chances to put Patches in time out. Me thinks he's trying to be a good parent and since he's had lots of recent time outs . . . it seems natural to him. Perhaps he's just passing a long the fun? Just like when he dropped her down the steps to see if she'd land on her feet.

A-hem.

The Calm One and I often find ourselves grinning over his admonitions to his new charge. The other day, he listed "the rules" for Patches. One of which was "No scratching me. Not even my face!" Upon arriving home after picking up the kittens, he gave her an extended tour. A tour which included each window of the house and a peek under various pieces of furniture. And a warning to not go into mommy's kitchen and open the fridge. The very thing Patches was plotting to do first chance she available, I am sure.

The only startling thing is one that The Calm One and I may never get used to: Whirling Dervish, when talking to Patches, calls himself "Daddy."

Gulp.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but if he's the daddy, doesn't that make me the grandma? Oh, man, oh man, oh man . . .

That's it! The kittens have got to go!