Saturday, January 19, 2008

No appreciation for the finer things

This is the bed that I bought for Catherine to sleep in:



Note the snuggly pink fabric, the cozy stuffing, the soft, high sides gently curved in exactly the shape of a sleeping cat. Note also (though you can't see it in the picture) the removable insert that can be microwaved to make the bed all toasty warm, as well as the lingering perfume of the catnip I rubbed all over it.

Now. This is what Catherine actually chooses to sleep in:



Note the gnawed edges, the claw holes in the bottom, and the general appearance of being a beat-up cardboard box. Which it is.

Catherine owes me $12.99.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I wonder if that's a metaphor for what we tend to do - stay in the old beat-up comfortable bed of grief instead of trying out the shiny new reality in front of us? Or I may just be reading way too much into your post!

Pixilated Mum said...

LOL

We've got the same problem with Sebastian. Yeah, our son. He has a nice sweet toddler bed. Where does he sleep every night? In a beat-up inflatable tent. Seriously. He drags his blanket and pillow in there. So, like, why did we buy that stupid bed????

writermeeg said...

LOL! This is classic. Sending you hugs for the last few posts. Oh, you're scaring me for the post-toddler years!