Henry stopped the car in the middle of the road to show me a kitten sitting in the grass. “There it is!! There’s that kitten I was telling you about! LOOK AT THE COLORING!!” he exclaimed, blowing my hair back with his sheer exuberance.
Apparently, he saw this kitten Friday when he was on his way to pick me up from work, and then on the way back he circled the block looking for it again, when all I wanted to do was go home and eat dinner, having only eaten oatmeal and an apple that day. The kitten had clearly found better things to do than to sit in the exact same spot for 45 minutes, waiting for the crazy kitten prowler to return.
You can imagine Henry was foaming at the ‘stache to see this kitten again. And then when a car had the NERVE to come up behind us, he got all up in arms and shouted, “There are NEVER any cars on this road!” before calling the driver an asshole AND a douchebag and driving away.
“You should have seen that kitten’s eyes,” he murmured a few seconds later. “They’re like, clear—OH OF COURSE THAT FUCKER ISN’T EVEN BEHIND US ANYMORE!!” he yelled, tilting the rear view mirror.
I have no idea who he is anymore.
I’m worried if he doesn’t find a kitten soon, he’s going to go on a homicidal rage attack. Good luck!
Seriously, he’s starting to scare me!