Oldest Kid
My oldest had his first job this weekend: kitten-sitting for the neighbors.

Kids get all the best jobs.

He walked up to their house twice a day all weekend. He fed the precious babies, he played with the precious babies, he scooped their precious poop from the litterbox. He took the responsibility very seriously and did it all himself. He’s very good with animals and probably would have done this for free just for the quality kitten time, but they paid him $100.

$100!!!!! Kids really do get all the best jobs.

Youngest Kid
My youngest had his tonsils removed last week. He’s always been our sickly child, and after seven bouts of strep in one year we finally decided the tonsils had to come out.

This is not a decision we made lightly. I was also a sickly child who got lots of strep and every virus imaginable, and once my tonsils came out I was significantly healthier. Even knowing what a difference it made for me, we were hesitant to put him through general anesthesia and surgery and a long, painful recovery.

He’s been recuperating on the basement couch for five days now and surviving on a steady diet of sushi, ice cream, and Roblox. Aside from the pain (which is mostly controlled with Advil and Tylenol) I think he’s kind of enjoying himself.

CK
CK is our older cat at eleven years old. He doesn’t act like he’s eleven. He hangs out on top of the refrigerator, wants to be carried around like a baby all the time, and still steals chicken nuggets from the kids’ plates if given the chance. He’s the best cat ever, my emotional support cat, and he’s going to live forever.

One of his eyes has grown cloudy seemingly out of nowhere. A quick google search confirmed it’s probably not something serious like cancer, but it is a sign of aging, maybe cataracts, and might need to be dealt with. I made him an appointment at the veterinarian but am in deep denial of the possibility that he is growing old. He is not. He cannot. It is not allowed.

BT
BT is our younger cat at four years old. He’s a real cat’s cat. He wants to be in the room with us, but not where we can reach him. He does not like being picked up but will accept respectful petting. I have no update about him except that he remains unbearably handsome and every day I ask him “what is it like to be so handsome?” and every day he responds by glaring at me.