On Tuesday H came over for dinner and we went on a YouTube kitten bender, so by Thursday I was jonesing for more kitten, like a crackhead, or dare I say it, a cathead.
For years I’ve been hearing about this supposed kitten spectacular that happens in the windows of Macy’s during the holidays. So after work I make my way over to Macy’s, ostensibly to buy new sheets, but actually I was there for a kitten fix. I’m walking around the block staring fiendishly into each window display for some sign of kitten. I don’t know what to expect as far as how the kittens are displayed so I’m studying each mannequin in ankle boots for signs of a kitten in a coat pocket. I’m expecting something great. Kittens suspended from the ceiling, kittens in a nativity scene. I want Jesus kitten. Mary kitten. Barring religious role-playing, the second best thing would be a window just chock full of kittens. Stacked kittens climbing all over each other like so many lobsters in a tank at a French restaurant.
At this point I realize I’m standing in front of the kitten display window. One reason I know this is because there are a lot of people around me making sounds that adults only make when confronted by a baby animal. One reason I don’t know this is because, I’ve suddenly realized that my eyes are closed. Behold the kittens, I think, but hopefully do not say aloud, and open my eyes with the anxious pre-ecstasy of a dope fiend tying off, or a girl going in for the first kiss. I see the kittens, although in the kitten range between infant and preteen I would say these ones are verging on middle school. They are wandering around in colorful Dr. Seuss-like scenes, which is great or whatever, but they aren’t dressed up, and they aren’t stuck on their backs trying to turn over, and they aren’t falling asleep, and they aren’t being tickled. They aren’t doing anything very cute at all. I realize why there hasn’t been any uproar about this; it’s all so humane it makes me a little sick.
There are no kitten stacks, no kittens so tiny they may have been born hours before, no adorably drugged kittens, not even any ridiculously fat kittens. I had gone out looking for hardcore kitten, and all I got was this t-shirt with a picture of a kitten, a cute kitten to be sure, but cute in the way that your pretty neighbor would be after you’ve been watching the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. So, they were right about the internet after all. Looking at kittens online has given me unrealistic expectations about the ideal kitten body-type.
My name is Ramona and I am addicted to kitten.