Happy Friday! Another week has flown right by and it’s Friday already. I guess that happens when you’re busy. But the good news is that means the weekend is starting! We hope you have a wonderful one with lots of kitty cuddles.
Here’s what the cats were up to this week!
Mama: It’s literally 100 degrees out. Why are you tucked in?
Sophie: Is your use of literally to simply intensify your statement?
Mama: No! It’s not!
Sophie: Your adamant denial suggests it is.
Mama: When did you become such a smartypants?
Sophie: Always have been.
Mama: Well, you sound like Olive.
Sophie: Eww, rude! By the way, can you turn up the AC? It’s kinda warm under here.
Sophie loves to crawl under the blankets…even on days like today when it’s blazing hot outside! I guess with the luxury of AC, Miss Smartypants Sophie can’t tell. #spoiledcat Happy Friday, friends!
Oh, hi there.
∗whispering∗ Stop looking at me.
Happy Caturday from this goofy guy.
Harley Makes the Rules
Mama: Can I help you?
Harley: You’re in my spot.
Mama: I’m in MY spot reading a book in bed on a relaxing Sunday.
Harley: Exactly, it’s Sunday. I reserved the spot.
Mama: Since when do I need to reserve my own pillow?
Harley: I don’t make up the rules.
Mama: Apparently you do!
Harley: Ah, so you acknowledge that reservations are required. So move!
Mama: You’re so pretty, Olive.
Olive: Tell me again, Mama.
Mama: You’re so pretty.
Mama: I have things to do.
Mama: Are you getting out of bed today?
Dexter: Why do you ask?
Mama: Because I’d like to make the bed.
Dexter: It’s nearly noon! Beds should be made first thing in the morning!
Mama: But you’re still in it!
Dexter: Excuses, excuses.
Sophie: Guess what, Mama.
Sophie: I had a dream that I found my purse. And there were a lot of treats in it! And I found that remote for the downstairs TV in there. And more stuffs and more stuffs.
Sophie: ∗whispering∗ But then I lost it again.
Mama: Sounds like a nightmare.
Sophie: But then you bought me a new purse because you felt so bad for me! And it was bigger and roomier. Yay!!!
Mama: Dream on, Sophie.
Woodrow: Whatcha got there?
Mama: A cookie.
Woodrow: Kinda looks like a cookie.
Mama: That’s what I just said.
Woodrow: ∗sniff∗ Smells like a cookie.
Mama: Woodrow! It’s a cookie!
Woodrow: I like cookies. They’re yum-yum.
Mama: You’re not getting any.
Bonus Friday Photo
When your bed matches your eyes.
Have a wonderful weekend!