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December 16, 2010 - Jennifer Brookens
Is it possible that the anniversary of John Lennon's passing inspired both my daughter AND my cat?!
It all started when there was a special on the 30th Anniversary of John Lennon's death. My husband and daughter watched it together and - being a classic rock DJ - my husband played some of the Beatles music for my daughter when she started asking questions. This is the point where I would think my daughter would get bored and ask to watch the Disney Channel. Instead, as I tucked her in that night, she said, "I'm sad about John Lennon being killed. I liked his music." Oookay... I say, "Well, we could probably find some more for you." She squeals and claps her hands like most kids would about going to Disneyland. It wasn't forgotten the next day, as she keeps asking us to look up some of their songs (sticking with the earliest stuff for now). A week later, it hasn't faded like I thought it would. She swiped my one piece of Beatles gear and has it up in her room now. It's strange to see my Beatles bag next to her iCarly and Disney princess posters, but at least I know she's got well-rounded taste.
Then there's the weird cat angle. For the past week (since that special, perhaps?) one of our cats has been insistent about sleeping on our bed, when he would sleep just about anywhere before. But our bed is where he's been found for the past week or so. We're pretty sure he's not sick, since he still responds promptly to feeding time, no more messes from him than usual, and he can still outrun the other cats when he gets chased. We've begun to joke that he's having his own bed-in like John and Yoko. He gets kicked out of our room at night, since he like to wake us at 4 a.m. by licking any piece of exposed skin. But when we open the door in the morning, he literally zooms back in and launches himself to the spot where we just slept. The little jerk probably thinks we were just warming it up for him. And we know he's not doing it to promote world peace, but simply to cushion and warm up his furry little bones. In a way, I envy him.
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