My wife knows there’s nothing I dislike more than being caught in a ridiculous situationI like to think of myself as a pretty tough bloke. So, tonight I tried to keep my dignity intact during bath time for our cat, Oliver. Still, I could hear her quietly creeping around, peeking into the bathroom. She must have found it entertaining, because she vanished behind the hallway wall, stifling giggles.
I tried to focus on washing Oliver, whispering softly, If youre a good kitty, say meow! If youre a brilliant kitty, say meow If youre my favourite kitty, say meow! I sang gently as I lathered him up. Most evenings, youd think I was trying to murder himclaws, teeth, yowling fitsbut tonight, he didnt seem to mind. Maybe he liked the singing, or maybe he was just stunned into submission.
Well wash your back nowgo on, say meow. Well wash your little pawssay meow. Well wash your tailjust a soft meow
Oliver gave a tiny, squeaky meow.
That was itI could hear my wife practically choking with laughter in the hall. I cant even imagine what shed have done with a video of thisgoodness knows holding on to that sort of evidence wouldnt be safe for me!
I looked at Oliver and asked, Dont like that one? Want me to sing you something else, mate?
He replied with another quiet meow.
So, as I massaged the shampoo around his ears, I started humming an old British pop tune: Rains falling again on my sorrowful window pane, and there you are, standing, my Madonna
I could hear snorting behind the wallapparently my serenades for the cat were funnier than any effort Id ever made for my wife. Truth be told, I’m not the serenading sort with her. Never much for grand gestures. Maybe I should be, but Oliver gets all the spotlight in these moments.
The next song that popped into my head was Spinning Wheel, so I carried on with, Round and round goes the wheel again as Oliver let out another quiet meow.
At this point, I could barely concentrate, knowing my wife was likely doubled over with laughter, afraid shed get caught. She must have slipped back to the lounge, but I wasnt finished. I started on the silly jingle from an old telly advert:
Bing-bing television,
Bing-bing television,
Bing-bing television
Id barely got the words out before she finished the line from the other room:
And two real gremlins inside!
She retreated onto the sofa, laughing so hard I thought she might choke.
I dont know what else might have been sung, but she was gone before Oliver and I stepped into the hallway. We both gave her our most dignified, withering looks, but she just buried her face in a cushion, shaking in silent laughter.
Oliver lifted his tail, I grabbed the towel, and together we paraded to the kitchenour pride a little bruised, but no worse for wear.
Looking back, I suppose the lesson here is that its best not to take yourself too seriously. Even the toughest fellas can wind up singing daft songs to their cats, and theres something wonderfully English about finding humour in those little moments.
