Potty patrol

Kazon has taken king of the hill a bit too far.  While I don’t mind the game under most circumstances, and I especially love that he enjoys it so much and finds resting on my shoulders or back to be so pleasant, his new twist on the game represents an escalation for which I was unprepared.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not funny.  On the contrary, I laugh so heartily in response to this new phase that it often interferes with what I’m doing.

And just what am I doing?  More importantly, what is he doing?  Let me tell you.

Kazon is quite comfortable being on my shoulders or back.  Whether I’m walking around, sitting at the desk or on the couch, or on the floor playing with them, he simply wants to be up there.  Sometimes it’s for play; other times it’s for snuggling.

Sounds okay so far, right?

Well, little more than a week ago he added a new twist.  It started one night when I was getting ready for bed.  I went in the bathroom, brushed my teeth and washed my face and hands, went to the kitchen, gave both Grendel and Loki their nightly meds, put fresh food and water down, and finally returned to the bathroom to take a load off my bladder.

That’s when he struck.

Not to be crude, but I was standing there tending to my personal business when suddenly Kazon leaped from the floor all the way to my shoulders.

I never saw it coming, so of course it scared the… well, I would say it scared the piss out of me had it not had the opposite effect.  The landing and short scramble to get into position frightened me so completely that my body clammed up and my relief came to an abrupt end.

And then I started laughing uncontrollably!

Meanwhile, Kazon, nestled tightly around my neck, began rubbing his face against my cheek as he purred with much abandon.

After getting my uproarious chuckles under control and petting him a bit, I was finally able to complete my mission without incident.

But now this has become a regular thing.  You can say visiting the little boy’s room presents a new challenge.

Because he’s quite stealthy and gives no warning before making the five-foot jump from the floor to my shoulders, and because he sneaks up behind me while I’m otherwise busy, what was once a relieving few moments is now spent dancing about and trying to watch for him while simultaneously trying to watch what I’m doing.  This is not always easy—or even possible.

So my next best solution has become a new approach to potty time: stand between the toilet and wall with my back pressed firmly next to the towel rack.  This blocks his path and keeps him from making a direct flight from the ground.  It also lets me deal with the matter at hand without… er… um… dealing with unexpected interruptions that sometimes lead to misses and messes.

I’m sorry.  This is such terrible latrine humor.  But it’s undeniably funny if I do say so myself, and that means something considering I’m the one dealing with it.

Unfortunately, I don’t always remember this new spin on an old game.  In fact, I forget more often than I remember.  He doesn’t forget, though.  Ever.

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