My husband never liked being caught in amusing situations; he was far too serious for that. So, I quietly peeked into the bathroom, enjoyed the scene before me, then turned and hid behind the wall, already stifling laughter that would surely leave me hiccuping for hours.
“If you’re a good kitty, say meow!
If you’re a splendid kitty, say meow…
If you’re a beloved kitty, say meow!”
My husband, Edward, was softly singing as he bathed our cat. Normally, our feline, Mr. Whiskers, would put up an almighty fightscratching, biting, and yowling all the while. But now? Perhaps he was charmed by the melody, or perhaps simply shocked into submission.
“Well wash your back nowsay meow…
Well wash your little pawssay meow
Well wash your tailsay meow…”
Meow, the cat squeaked, barely audible.
I nearly lost it behind the wall… To this day I regret not capturing that masterpiece on film. Though, in truth, having such blackmail material probably would have been my undoing.
“What, not to your taste? Well, shall I sing you something else then?”
“Meow.”
Edward fell quiet for a moment, soaping Mr. Whiskers, before starting a soft lullaby:
“Once again, the rain sketches your sorrowful form on the weeping windowpane… your melancholy silhouette, Madonna…”
Tears rolled down my cheeks from trying not to burst out laughing.
And then it dawned on meEdward had never sung to me, not once. He wasnt exactly the romantic sort, but he had many other fine qualities. Still, here he was, serenading the cat. Perhaps I would have felt a twinge of jealousy, if it werent so hysterically funny.
Meanwhile, Madonnaas Mr. Whiskers was dubbed for his performanceoffered another mournful mew, and Edward moved on to Those Magic Swings, another childhood classic. That was itI could barely keep myself from being discovered any longer. It was high time to retreat into the living room before the grand finale, as Edward was already reaching for the towel to dry the cat.
Just as I was calming down, I heard:
“Dzyng-zyng television,
Dzyng-zyng television,
Dzyng-zyng television…”
At this, I simply couldnt resist, finishing the song from my hiding spot:
“And two tinker sprites inside!”
By then, I was crawling away to the sofa, laughing out loud and gasping for breath.
Ive no idea whether there was any further singing. I was doubled over, helpless with giggles. A few moments later, two disgruntled gentlemenone large, one small and furryentered the room, casting me wounded and suspicious looks. I buried my face in the cushion, unable to control my laughter as the pair gazed loftily at me, then marched off towards the kitchen.
Oh, how those days remind me what a blessing it was to share my home with such serious souls.
