Hi ya, everyone. I know. I know. You’re all thinking, “Where you have been, MaxE? I miss you.” Well, I missed you too! But Mama was busy and MaxE doesn’t know how to type or spell, so he couldn’t post. But I’m back! And we’re celebrating Mama’s birthday. Technically it was a few days ago, but I did my very best to make it super duper special.
Now Mama complains about me not sleeping in bed with her at night. I do, but I have my nightly patrols and sometimes I like to nap in other places too. She is a bit of a drama queen about it, but since I LOVE HER SO MUCH, I decided that I would sleep with her the ENTIRE night as a pre-birthday treat.
She was so happy. I made sure she knew I was there by settling smack dab in the middle of the bed and stretching myself out. And I am a BIG kitty. She kept bumping into me and from her mutters I knew she was real pleased by my presence.
I heard about this breakfast in bed thingy people do to celebrate big occasions. So I had the great idea to make breakfast for Mama because she always says that breakfast is her favorite meal of the day (she seems pretty happy when she eats lunch and dinner too, just saying). Anyway, I got up extra early and headed into the kitchen. Now MaxE faced a HUGE dilemma. Mama gets mad when I jump on the kitchen counters, and I didn’t want to make her mad on her special day, but how was I supposed to make her breakfast?
Because I am an exceptionally brave kitty, I jumped on the counter and waited to see if Mama would come racing out of the bedroom. She didn’t, so I proceeded to my kibble bag. Now ideally I would use a spoon to scoop up some kibble for Mama, but I don’t know how to use a spoon and only had my paws, which aren’t the best scoops. They are real good at shredding Mama’s bench but not so-good at getting kibble out of a bag. So I tried and tried and MAYBE I knocked over the bag of kibble.
Uh-oh! I jumped down and started gobbling up the evidence as fast as I could, but Mama is too fast. She raced out of the bedroom yelling, “MaxE! Are you getting into mischief?”
Well, duh. She didn’t name me Chief Mischief Maker for nothing.
But honestly, I am really blameless in this situation. Don’t you agree? I was trying to make my Mama a super special breakfast to celebrate her new white hairs, not trying to get into mischief. I meowed this to Mama but she was not impressed.
She mumbled under her breath a lot while she was cleaning up the kibble spill, but when I jumped up next to her to snuggle on the sofa, she wrapped her arm around me and rubbed my belly. So maybe my birthday plans didn’t go perfectly, but I’m pretty sure Mama knows she is numero uno in MaxE’s eyes.
Happy Birthday Mama!!