As we continue to unpack in our new Astoria apartment, we’re frequently treated to scenes like these:
On top is my little guy, the appropriately-named (well, inappropriately, but whatever) Midget, who is alternately attacking, cleaning, and getting cleaned by Pistachio.
Mind you, prior to the move in late August, neither of the boys had met the other. After a tense few days which involved much growling and hissing (and consequently much scolding and more than a few sprays with the squirt bottle, plus lots of play time – cos, y’know, nothing distracts you from growling quite like a feather on a stick), the boys became fast friends, and mutual grooming is now a regular event.
You’ll also briefly hear Darien in the background drafting up a response to a particularly HORRENDOUSLY written contract to compose a film score. I, of course, can only watch the video sans audio since to do otherwise would be to hear the sound of my own voice, which every time I hear it elicits the same response from me: “Do I really sound like that?! Jeez…there’s no mistaking it, is there…?”