Look at this cup. It was acquired by Hubby in 1984 at an establishment called Penrods on Fort Lauderdale Beach. Why would anyone hang on to this for all those years?
I don't know either. Except this is my water cup and it is always with me when I am at home. You never know when a thirst may come on. I don't want to be, say, 25 feet away from a source of water and have to actually get up.
So the Penrods cup and I are an inseparable pair.
Except there is someone that wants to make this pair a threesome. That someone is MJ the Cat. You see MJ lives to drink out of this cup. His whole existence revolves around sticking his schnoz into the cup and lapping up water. Never mind we have numerous bowls for his slurping pleasure. This is the only source of water that matters.
His feline ears can determine the moment water hits the inside of this particular cup. He'll come running over to survey the cup and assess:
- -the water level in the cup
- -the diameter of his head
- -how far into the cup his head will go
"When will you learn?" Hubby clucks. "How many years have you two been battling over that thing? Which one of you is smarter anyway?"
I could part with my Penrods cup. But it would be like cutting off my own arm. We've been through so much together: the Reagan years, MC Hammer, Melrose Place. I've thought about replacing the cup with a water bottle. But where's the sport in that?
MJ and I will continue to maneuver over this precious water vessel; like a couple of weathered generals plotting their next move. Until Hubby grows tired of whole spectacle and throws the cup away.
Which, while logical, would be a sad day.
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