As mentioned before, Philip has an uncanny ability to hear things a special way and interpret them into his own vocabulary set. 

It also must be noted that my mom’s cousin Connie and her husband Bob, who live in town, are much beloved by my children (by everyone, for that matter).  Their house is cooler than Grandma’s – that’s saying a lot – and any time we get remotely in the vacinity, the excitement amps up in the car.  Bob, in particular, is special to the boys.  He’s a kidder and a big teddy bear of a guy.  He has a giant boat and takes them fishing with Papa for crappy and perch and walleye.  He feeds them ice cream and lets them take his massaging recliner for a spin.  He also yells at Jack, the cat, for them.  Jack is a handsome devil but wiley and a little skittish around kids.  The young ones want to pet his kinked tail so bad and Connie is always worried he’ll bite them.  It’ll only happen once, I say, but Bob terrorizes the cat for the kids and they love every second of it.

Where is she going with this?  All background story, my friends.

This last week we heard this:

It was supper time.  Max was asking me to list all the kinds of cats in the world. 

Max: “See, there’s lion and cheetah and  . . . what else?”

Me: “Hmmm?” I was reading something.  My parents tried to break me of this habit when I was in their home, but it didn’t work.

Max:  “Cats!  What kind are there?  Like lion and cheetah and jaguar and . . . did I say lion?”

Me: “Um . . . let’s see . . . jaguar, lynx, puma . . . ” (keep in mind, after each of these he needed a National Geographic style description.) ” . . . housecat, tiger, oscelot (????  I was making that up so don’t get all whack on me if it is not, in fact, a cat), mountain lion, bobcat -”

Philip:  “HEY!!!  Connie has a Bob cat!”

*Connie would laugh until milk came out of her nose to know that Philip thinks that while the cat is Bob’s, Connie must take care of it.*