The problem of being alone

[la_marquise]

I don't mind being on my own: I find it soothing, in fact, though the marquis complains that I rapidly become hermit-like and insular and weird. However, this morning I did notice that in his absence the standard of my utterances has dropped dramatically.
Things I have uttered recently (apart from 'Good morning' and 'Thank you', to the postman).
'Oh, madam, what are you doing behind?'
'Horus, get out of that.'
'Who's a best girl then?'
'Yummy Noodle puss num nums.'
'Oh, Horus, don't do that.'
'Yes, what a nice clean cat bum.'
'Oh, Ish, you revolting animal.'
'There's a lovely Ish-cuddle.'
'Oh, Mooncat, get off there.'
'What an underfoot cat.'

And so on and so forth. Responses have ranged for disdainful silence to enthusiastic purring, via the full range of meow, wong, wow, meep, prrt and sss (the latter being Ish's response to me trying to turn over in the middle of the night). You jsut don't get the conversation these days!

Comments

[seanan-mcguire.livejournal.com]

"Who's a Lillers, then?"
"Who's big? Are you big? Alice is big."
"Alice, stop it."
"ALICE STOP THAT NOW."
"Lilly, don't lick the phone."
"Lilly, don't lick the computer."
"Lilly, don't eat the shower curtain."
"Lilly, the gravity isn't going to turn off."
"No. You can't have that. That's not for you."
"Please don't play with the My Little Ponies. They're not toys."
"Stop pooping, that box was just cleaned."
"Claws claws ow ow claws no!"
"Prrt to you, too."