You've Got to be Kitten Me

My grandmother lives in an apartment in Moravia, Iowa. About 650 people live in Moravia, and there's not much there in terms of excitement. At least that was what I thought.

What's hiding under Grandma's couch?

Well, hello gorgeous!

Whoa! Grandma's place just got a whole lot more exciting for Charlotte!

No, my Grandma didn't get a kitten. My Aunt Renea adopted this kitten earlier in the week, and she brought the cat over to entertain Char. And boy did that work.

You can't hear it, but the kitten was purring at this moment. Seriously.

My aunt let Charlotte name the kitten, and Char immediately chose "Susie". Even though that's my aunt's middle name (Charlotte didn't know that), Renea vowed to use Susie as the cat's name. Here's Char and Susie playing with Grandma's walker.

About that walker, Grandma Jerry is 89 years old, and on Friday night she spotted a mouse sitting on her carpet. Did she scream or call for help? Nope. She tried to run the mouse over with her walker's wheels, and she was able to stun it. How? I have no idea. Grandma's speed isn't one mile per hour. Then she took a hammer to the mouse to finish the job. Seriously Grandma? A hammer? Yep. She whacked it, scooped it into a dustpan, and then threw the rodent's body into the front yard.

If you're wondering who does that kind of thing, the answer is a wife of a farmer does that kind of thing. It doesn't matter how old she is. If she's got a problem, she deals with it.

Aunt Renea also brought gifts and candles for a belated birthday celebration. Char turned four on August 18 - that's her mom's birthday, too - so Char got four candles in her birthday doughnut. Susie the kitten got two candles in hers. I still don't know why the cat got a birthday doughnut.

Although Char was warned that she couldn't take the kitten home, I think she thought she might get to keep her if the cat was in all of our family pictures.

This isn't a great picture, but look at the cat.

Let's zoom in.

"Must Escape! Now!"

In the end Char cried to keep the cat, I pried to release the cat, and the cat sighed to be safe back under the couch. It was a bit messy, and there was a lot of sobbing when I pulled back onto the four-lane. But then Charlotte fell asleep, and when she awoke an hour later she hardly mentioned Susie the kitten.

Three hours of joyful play in exchange for 15 minutes of tears? That's a bargain.