My Daughter, The Cat

For the past two days, Rose has been a cat. Everywhere she goes, she meows and crawls. If you address her as Rose, she says “No, my name’s not Rose! Call me Kitty!”

Today when I dropped her off at school, I had to yell at her to walk like a little girl across the parking lot and down the hall to her classroom. She said she didn’t want to walk like a little girl. She wanted to walk like a cat. It’s a sad story, but sometimes you just have to walk like a human.

It doesn’t help that when Rose walks normal at home while she’s being a cat, Lily tells her she needs to walk like a cat or when Rose talks normal, Lily corrects her and tells her to meow like a cat.

When I picked the girls up from school today, their teacher told me all about how Rose was a kitty, but also a pig and the big bad wolf today. Considering I could never get Lily to pretend to be anything, having a daughter who’s constantly invested in a role is interesting. Rose is rarely just Rose. She’s usually Cinderella, Rapunzel or George the Pig from Peppa Pig. When she is role playing, she always insists that you call her her character’s name. This kitty thing is new and probably the worst because she insists on walking on crawling everywhere and keeps meowing, which alternates between cute and annoying.

I like cats, but I’m allergic to them. I’d hate to have to get rid of her.

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