Friday, October 02, 2009

Making My Heart Melt


The chores have cut down gendered lines. He feeds her, waters her. I clean her poop, clean her vomit, and vacuum everything. Their love, it is boundless. Her disdain for me? Clear everytime she ignores my lap to go straight to his.

She hates the sound of the vacuum and runs into the office when I switch it on. I smile when I hear the ringing of the bell on her collar pause for just the briefest second and then the sound starts again, a quick jingle jingle. I hear the click of the keyboard hesitate as he says, "hey there, Dae." She has jumped on his lap and I can see it, although I am in the other room, as he pets her with his long fingers. "I know, I know, you don't like the loud vacuum cleaner." It is their little game. She acts frightened, he comforts her.

They will sit like that, long after the vacuum has been put into the closet, long after I have moved on to reading the new Sarah Dessen novel, long after her displeasure at That Sound has ebbed. She thinks he is bored, looking at that glowing box, not know that when she is sitting on his lap, he is writing his future. He is writing for our future. He is writing and writing some more.

They are one, cat and human. He types over her head as she purrs, content to be on a warm body. Every once in a while, she will meow up at him and he will distractedly pet her head or murmur an inconsequential, meaningless comfort word to her. Eventually I will start making dinner, another chore in a day filled with this pleasurable routine, and he will call out to ask if I need help.

No, no I don't need help. You stay there and hold the cat.

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