that's the way it should be

So at the moment the Little Lady is teething.  She has an incisor coming through and it's causing her all sorts of bother! Mummy has found the teething necklace stashed away in a draw and the Lady goes to bed with it round her ankle.  I don't think you can buy them in the UK any more after one of those safety scares that really amount to nothing more than over protective parents having fits at the mere possibility that something might happen to their little ones.  Fair enough.  Mummy has fits some times about cars driving too fast, stranger danger and childhood cancer but in the wise words of Disney and our sea-life friends:

Marlin: I promised I'd never let anything happen to him

Dory: Hmm.  That's a funny thing to promise.

Marlin:What?

Dory: Well, you can't never let anything happen to him.  Then nothing would ever happen to him

So on the teething beads go, but round the ankle needless to say.

this is me...aren't I dashing?

All this teething does mean however, I am an absolute necessity at the moment, and my it is good to feel needed!   Despite the fact that my tail is now brown rather than the fair golden it once was I am proud to take the title of "comforter, friend and all around favourite toy".  I am so loved, chewed and thus smelly that I have been in the washing machine twice recently. And I am glad to say the experience left the Josie's feeling a little jealous for the lady's affections albeit a little smug that it is no longer they tangled amongst sheets and then hung up to dry by their ears.  

I am also relieved that the little lady is no less fond of me. . . 

But it seems that this favouritism is getting under Mummy's skin.  When Mummy has to say no to all sorts of things that my Little Lady asks for e.g. chocolate buttons ten minutes before bedtime, yet another episode of Something Special (which, if you haven't seen it yet, I can personally guarantee it is indeed very special. Particularly when you've seen each episode at least 3 times), or to go outside when it's nap time, the Little Lady wails, cries and asks for "cat".  

or in this case scenario...cat!

"Cat!" She cries.  And it is accompanied by a look that says "how could you say no to me Mummy! I want my cat because he would never betray me, he would never do this to me!".  And the Little Lady is right, but that's why Mummy is Mummy and I am merely a cat.  I could not say no....but I think that Mummy knows best about chocolate buttons, television watching issues and nap time routines amongst other things.

Mummy has to set boundaries that the Little Lady might not always understand or appreciate but as a cat I have limited capacity to impact the Lady in this way.  But I see the way Mummy looks at me sometimes. . . I feel like she wants to wipe the embroidered smile right off my face, because in those moments I'm the good guy and she's the bad guy.

But at the end of it all I think one day the Lady will forget all about me and that's the way it should be, but she will never forget her Mummy. . .

and that's the way it should be.