Last week my friend – Jeremy – who taxidermied Rory (the Furiously Happy raccoon) emailed to tell me that Rory turned 5 years old on Friday, but I’m terrible at keeping up with emails so I totally missed his birthday. So to make up for it I gave him a vespa. Or, rather, I stole one of Hailey’s doll’s vespas after I realized that all of her fake American Girl accessories are the perfect scale for a small dead raccoon. (Honestly, they are really missing out on an untapped market.)
Regardless, Rory and Rory II had a blast.
And so did the cats because for once they weren’t the ones giving Rory a ride.
And then Victor was like, “WHY IS IT SO LOUD IN HERE? DON’T YOU HAVE WORK TO DO?” and I was all, “YOU CAN’T JUDGE ME. IT WAS YOUR SON’S BIRTHDAY AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER” and he just stared at me in confusion and I was like “THE CAT’S IN THE CRADLE, VICTOR” and he shook his head and locked the door to his office, and then I thought I should maybe clarify that I was referring to the Harry Chapin song and not to me actually putting one of our cats in a cradle. But then that seemed ridiculous because we don’t even have a cradle. We barely had a vespa for a dead raccoon’s birthday.
Honestly, we are terrible parents.
PS. I really need to get a tiny saddle made:
PPS. I haven’t updated my shop in months. Until now.