1.

Friday Night: I am going to suck, because you have come home with a 100° F fever and are now bedridden and hacking.
Me: Thanks, and fuck you.
Cat: *observes me prone in the bed* I want to be petted. Here, I will shove the furriest part of my body into your snotty nose and face.
Me: Feline, you are going to regret this in a couple minutes.
Minutes: We pass.
Me: *starts hacking and wheezing directly into feline fur*
Cat: *shocked and horrified, shoots off bed* Why, I never!
Me: Yeah, well I warned you.
Process: I repeat myself two more times. Cat begins to understand my workings the third time.

2.

Tuesday Morning: Normally, I would suck because you're still kind of sick and wheezy, but I am also the start of a snow day, which is pretty awesome.
Me: *burrows deeper into covers, ignores world*
Cat: *saunters over* I request to be petted.
My Arm: I'm going to reluctantly snake out from under the covers because my owner inadvisably thinks you're kind of cute, half-heartedly rub you several times, then hide back under the covers.
Cat: Such petting will not suffice--I know when I am being placated. I shall flop on your face until I receive my due.
Me: Feline, we have been over--
Cat: I shall flop with the utmost dignity. *promptly flops down, misjudges available flopping space, and slides off bed*
Cat: Clearly, this means you are not worthy to pet me. *saunters off*

3.

Tuesday Afternoon: Eh, I'm alright. There is hot cocoa and a blanket on the couch.
Me: *reads book for class*
Cat: You have the kneading blanket. I require it to knead on. Additionally, I require you to pay attention to me. *cautiously mounts my cramped stomach-to-knees space and begins kneading*
Me: This is unusual! You never want to sit on my lap. Is my snowbound existence softening your resistance? Does the kitty want pettings? Yes, the kitty does. (Ed. Note - Avery does in fact speak to The Feline in this manner. There may be a mildly embarrassing unintentional audio recording of him doing so.)
Cat: I require no more attention. *leaves stomach-to-knee area*
Me: Aww, why did the kitty leave?
Biological Processes: We announce it might be a good time to take a shit.
Me: *passes cat food bowl on the way to the bathroom, sees it is empty* Oh.
Cat: *walks past* Yeah, genius.

4.

Wednesday Morning: Snow Day #2! And you have been productive!
Me: Fuck, I need to put my bills in the mail. And take out the trash. Fuck. It's cold outside. *beings dressing to leave apartment* Feline, it's cold outside! And I have to put my boots on! (Ed. Note - The Boots wish it be made known that being both steel-toed and waterproof, they are actually pretty cool.)
Cat: Yeah, and? *returns to licking self*
Me: But. Cold. 10° F!
Cat: *sleeping*
Me: ...appreciate the vote of confidence there.

However, I have not yet crafted clothing for The Feline, so I'll consider this an accomplishment.
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A Vagina You Can't Take Home to Mother

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