I am obsessed with my cats

There, I said it. I know that’s what happens when you’re young and live in a city and don’t have enough other hobbies, or whatever. But my cats are awesome. When you are in the bathroom in my house, a cat whines at the door. Let one in (yes, you can open the door while sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, did I mention I live in an apartment?) and it will circle your feet, observe what you are doing, and leave. The other will then come in and do the same. They will hiss when they pass each other in the doorway.

But sometimes they will get along, and you will catch them napping with each other in the bed that you left unmade out of laziness or a pathological fear of being an adult or because you are working from home dammit and you might need to crawl back in there, and you will feel like a real parent. Ok, maybe you wouldn’t, but I feel like what I imagine a real parent feels when their kids get along. Like you have made a family. And yes, this family is made up of selfish fuzzballs who lick their own buttholes, but still, we are keeping those things alive, and I am impressed.
And sometimes my cats yawn, and cat yawns rule.

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