Tales of Stupidity

#7: Fetus Fran vs Cat

My problem with cats stared at a young age.

On weekends, when I was a lot younger (about three or four years old), my mum would often let me go around to see my next door neighbors on weekends, and I'd play with their cat, Maisie. Usually, the creature was very nice to be around - mostly because it rarely came home and when it did, it was just hungry- but Fetus Fran (me) did not understand that it had a bad temper whenever you showed it any sort of kindness or affection.

My next door neighbor took me into the kitchen one day and showed me how to prepare the cat's food that morning. I did it (mentally beginning my career as a master chef), and took the bowl of food upstairs to Maisie in one of the bedrooms because I was told to.

The creature was curled up on a pillow, and looked up at me when I entered the room, being all cute and adorable and shit because I was simply an innocent, simple-minded fetus. I put the bowl down on the floor, and looked up only to get scratched over the eye by the cat.

Like anyone would if a cat had just scratched over their eye, I started crying (not a good thing to do when your eyelid is like a bloody version of Niagara Falls) and ran downstairs to be comforted and loved by those who weren't of the cat species.

The cat of doom chased me downstairs, trying to claw at my legs and my freaking adorable little white socks as it did so. My next door neighbor rescued me shortly after by picking Maisie up and putting her outside.

She called my mum, and helped me sort out my eyelid. My mum took me home and fed me lots of ice cream, which was totally great.

Fetus Fran: 1 (cause I didn't get put outside >:3 )

Cat: 0

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See ya later, my little demons!

-F (admin)