Tea Party Goddess

I am very good at tea parties.

"Well, naturally," you'll say. "You're very good at everything, Minerva Louise."

Which is true. I am. But I am particularly very good at tea parties. Anne Elisabeth doesn't think so, of course, but Rohan does. I always sit in his lap when they sit down to their evening cup of tea.

And I wash his fingers . . .

. . . and he rubs my ears the way I like . . .

. . . and we--

No. That's NOT my evil face.

Seriously, you people . . .

Anyway, as you can see, I am quite, quite good at tea parties! Rohan thinks I'm just the cutest thing ever.

Rohan: "She's just the cutest thing ever!

So much cuter than Anne Elisabeth!"

No, really. That's what he's saying.

So, as you can see, I know all about tea parties, and I am everyone's favorite. I'm much better at them than Marmaduke (between demanding hugs from everyone present, he always tries to steal a scone), or Molly (who's never sure what's going on), or the Minion (what do minions know about tea parties anyway?), and much, MUCH better than that Thing (who just whines pathetically hoping someone will drop something).

Indeed, I am a veritable tea party goddess.

Until this last tea party.

I had been hard at work for the last hour telling Anne Elisabeth where to put everything.

You need to slide the cream a little more this way . . .

When who do you suppose showed up?

That's right! Little Miss Fatso, ready to burst with babies, taking a seat at MY tea party! Isn't that always the way of it? No matter how careful you with the invitations, that Bad Fairy is always sure to turn up, full of cursings and what-have-you. Being a lady of great class and courtesy, I completely snubbed her, of course.

And that's when things got interesting.

With approximately ten minutes before our guests were due to arrive, Anne Elisabeth decided to take a seat and put her feet up for a moment (lazy beast). That Fat Cat took the opportunity to hop in her lap.

And started having kittens.

"AHHHHHHH!" said Anne Elisabeth.

"AHHHHHHH!" said Rohan, observing.

"MEEEEEEEEEOW!" said Fatso.

And everything exploded.

Rohan ran down the hall, Anne Elisabeth, carrying Mama-cat, followed fast behind, and they disappeared into the guest room, shutting the door in my face.

Marmaduke: "Anyone in there need hugs?"



It was appalling. We kept hearing the most horrendous sounds from inside! And then Anne Elisabeth, still having to at least do some of her hostessing duty, had to hop up and finish getting ready for our tea party guests to arrive.

While she was out of the room, we heard Rohan calling:

"Sweetie? Sweeeeetie?!?!"

"Yes?" I asked.

But Anne Elisabeth assumed he meant her and went running in, refusing to give me admittance. Marmaduke and I listened at the door.

AE: "What is it, Rohan? Is she okay?"

Rohan: "She had something! I don't know what it is! But she had something!!!"

AE: "Um. I would assume it's a kitten."

What nerve that Anne Elisabeth has, being all sarcastic at my darling Rohan-muffin. One of these days I'll break her tea cup, and we'll see how sarcastic she gets then . . .

Anyway, turns out Miss Fatso did have a kitten. Several of them in fact. And my dearest Rohan wasn't expecting all the . . . stuff . . . that comes with kittens.

Eeeew! That's not tea-party appropriate!

Four of them. That's right. Four! First two blacks, then two whites, three boys and one girl. Tiny, little, squeaking, pink-toed, alien-esque babies.

No wonder Rohan was confused.

Great job, Fatso-cat. I'm sure you're proud of your alien brood.

And that was me being sarcastic. In case you didn't get it.