Lego helpers

Sometimes Mom does weird things. Okay, she does a lot of weird things, but one of includes little colorful bricks - Lego.
I used to help her with those, but to be honest, it became boring pretty quickly. Not having an opposable thumb, I couldn't help her actively, she never took any of my advice on how to improve, and worst of all, she never let me take any of those bricks to play with myself.
"I need those, my darling." "That's too small, I don't want you to swallow one, sweetie." "Oh baby, please don't sit on it." I have no idea why she thinks flattering will make me forget that essentially all she's saying is no, no, NO. She says no a lot. Don't puke on the bed, don't knock that down (granted, she mostly says that to dem Dekan), don't stand on my collarbone ... ouch, ouch, ouch! What a whiner!
Honestly, do I look as if I could do anything wrong? Except maybe being too gorgeous of course.

Back to Lego.
The other day Mom wrote about her latest project, it's a portrait of a beetle, sorry, I mean a Beatle.

Now I did tell you about how we like to confuse Mom, but it's just as much fun for me to see how she confuses the brat.
The first attempt of having him around failed in the most pathetic way. Mom participates in those Crafternoons, a video meeting of some bloggers who chat and work on something creative while doing so. Usually she sits on the bed doing them and she never gets far crafting because der Dekan who thinks she's piece of soft furniture absolutely loves her sitting cross-legged which makes a perfect little nest for him.
This time, however, she decided to work on her Lego Art set and thought that maybe der Dekan would like to help her (seriously, I think she gets less and less smart with age because who in their right mind would think that's a good idea?). She probably craved the cozy feeling of Ponder doing it with her, but honestly - der Dekan is not Ponder.

Well, she mentioned how it went crazy quickly and actually she locked the brat out.
He doesn't deal well with being locked out of Mom's life, no matter how often I tell him it's actually rather boring and I only bear it because it goes great with my nap cycles.
So the next time she let him help again, but she didn't put the studs (that's what the bricks are called she's using at the moment) on the table which quite understandably drove the little predator to madness, but she put them in a bowl.
The result was amazing. See for yourself.

These are the yuckiest kibbles I have seen in my life.

He sat there transfixed, my guess is that he wondered if these were some kind of kibbles that had a weird color and didn't smell. He stared at them for a really long time, even while Mom already started picking them out, and didn't try to touch them!
Mom was so proud of herself.

Not sure how I should deal with this situation ...

Then she opened the box. The lid is attached to the box and part of it was not on the table.
Der Dekan thought it was a great cat bed, anyway. To be on the safe side, Mom pulled the box towards herself a bit more, but he totally went overboard, rubbing himself on the cardboard and rolling around.
It just had to happen - wheeeeee, and down he went off the table. I wish there was a picture or even a video of that! As a German cat, I'm very familiar with the concept of Schadenfreude ...

Anyhow, after that he obviously had to wreak some havoc elsewhere - on the desk - to hide his embarrassment. Mom hates that because her desk is a bit in, erm, disarray at the moment (the biggest euphemism ever) and once again she threw him out until she had finished her square.

Today the boy took out his revenge on the box. It had knocked him down and now he knocked it down. Mom wasn't in the same room at the time and came running thinking he had knocked over a chair, it was so loud! Luckily - for her - the box had not opened up. I think it would have been fun to watch her picking up studs from the floor, but alas, it wasn't to be.

So I guess it's 1:1 in the Lego : Der Dekan game at the moment. I'll keep you posted!


We are not affiliated with Lego in any way, except playing with it every, now and then.

It's mad, I tell you, mad!

Had you thought der Dekan and I disappeared off the planet? No, but we were really busy. We had to eat, we had to nap a lot, play sometimes, fight every, now and then - and most important of all we found a hobby that we can both agree on. It's cheap, it's fun, it's easy and you can do it all around the clock.
I'm of course talking about driving Mom to ultimate madness. It's not that we don't like her, she's quite useful as a can opener, she does our boxes, she makes quite a good bed for lounging (especially if she falls asleep and doesn't move), she reads to us which can be pretty relaxing, she pets us, and she catches our beauty in pictures (den Dekan more than me because my pictures tend to be blurry if the light isn't right and she hates how flash makes my gorgeous fur look all wrong while it really brings out his stripes nicely) and, even more important, knows which pictures of me to delete (who cares if she shows the goofiest, least flattering pictures of the brat, mugshots are rarely good).

First of all, I'm really pushing my art career at the moment.
Let Mom call me a vandal, I don't care. Here's just a small reminder of my inspiration, I never pose like that with my artwork to keep a bit of the Banksy touch.
Der Dekan has pretty much given up on this kind of art installation, by the way. Obviously he had to acknowledge that I'm so much better than he is. He's more into

I am taking this further than der Dekan, though, in frequency for example which is of course a comment on the many Sisyphos tasks humans are dealing with throughout their lives, such as laundry, vacuuming, cleaning, grocery shopping, etc.
To be clear, they are doing some of them happily because they know we allow them do those for our wellbeing - choosing the best food (which we will like and then refuse and then like again), creating a safe but inspiring environment for us to develop our many amazing talents, but also litterboxes for example (although sometimes I wonder if that is more of a weird obsession and I'm thinking about writing my thesis about that).
For Mom, one is obviously kicking back the baseboards with her foot while mumbling to herself, no doubt about the flawless execution of not ripping out just the short, but also the long board. Extra touches are to pull them out far enough to either knock over one or several of the door stoppers or leave them slanted which looks very good if I may say so myself.
I'm quite grateful she took over that duty because if she didn't put them back, I couldn't rip them out again, right? About a minimum of three times a day, with the record probably at about six or seven.
You can tell I'm working very hard on this.

Another way to make Mom panic is to eat something you shouldn't it. Like bats.
If you have been around for a while, you may remember my complicated relationship with bats. No, I didn't follow Ozzy Osbourne's example, I'm talking about felt bats (or actually any other felt pieces).
Mom never fails to show me this picture of my former BFF and she keeps pointing out that two days are not "forever". So petty.

Well, she gave me "another chance at proving I'm a responsible and mature cat".
I won't be saying any more without my lawyer except that I had fun hearing Mom yell for me to stop licking the new bat to death. She says she doesn't want me to swallow the felt that gets stuck on my tongue. Pfff.

By the way, no need to worry about the missing hair on the back of my legs,
it comes and goes.

Unfortunately, Mom has taken measures to fight back in the most cruel and humiliating way. All I'm saying is "vet".
But that, my dear readers, is a story for another time ...