The Shock Of No Chocolate

Dobby stands up on his hind legs, reaches up and touches Mom's elbow. “Come on Mom, the cup is empty, it's time to write.” Dobby sits at her feet and quietly waits.

Mom is emptying her mug in a contented manner, the moans and groans are audible. Lowering the cup on to the table Mom licks her lips with the pleasure reminiscent of a lipstick commercial or an adult movie. “That was so good. I love chocolate.”

“I know Mom.”

“Chocolate makes me happy.”

“I know that too Mom...”

“Is there any more chocolate?” Mom asks.

“No,” Dobby answers “that was it.”

“Okay fine.” Mom says with a smile. “I get it. We are out of cocoa. What else is there?”

“Nothing.”

“But what about?”

“No.” Dobby says.

“And the?” Mom asks, getting more nervous with each answer.

“There's no more, you finished that last week.”

“I KNOW!” Mom looks at Dobby with hopeful smile.

Dobby looks back at Mom and shakes his head no with seriousness.

“No more chocolate?”

Dobby stands up on his back feet, looking into Mom's eyes and says, “No more chocolate” firmly while shaking his head.

“No Chocolate? I'm a woman, without chocolate I could die!” Mom cries out in despair.

“Mom, you won't die. Women lived without chocolate for thousands of years.” Dobby points out.

“And they're okay? Have you asked one?”

“That was thousands of years ago, I can't ask them, they're all dead now.”

“See! I told you! I'm going to die without chocolate!”

“Everyone dies eventually Mom. It's okay.” Dobby says, getting in Mom's lap and rubbing his head against her chin.

Mom's breathing is labored, her eyes unfocused, she seems unaware of her surroundings.

“Tinkletoes? TP? Somebody...” Dobby calls out.

The faerie appeared first, holding a thimble of ale and looking irritated. Tinkletoes entered through the back door of the house seconds later. “Yeah. What's up Dobby?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It's Mom...” Dobby said his voice cracking a little. “It was time to do the blog. She wanted more cocoa, we were out, she asked for chocolate but there is no more.” The orange tabby's voice trailed off.

“Did you tell her that you were out of chocolate?” Tinkletoes asked.

“Yeah.”

Tinkletoes draws an open hand down his face. “Never tell a woman there is no chocolate in the house. I don't know crap about women and even I know that.”

“Silly kitty.” TP agrees, there is a light hiccup from his direction.

Mom's lips start moving and barely audible sounds come from her mouth. “Chocolate chips, chocolate bars, chocolate cake, chocolate donuts, chocolate milk, chocolate cereal, cocoa, chocolate muffins, chocolate covered pretzels, chocolate bunnies...”

“What is she saying?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It's just a list of things that are chocolate.” Dobby answers listening closely to Mom's words.

“Crap! She is going into Chocolate Shock. I've seen it before. During my tours of duty. She will list everything she can think of that is chocolate in every country of the world. We can't let her get to India.”

“Why?”

“It's too late. Once they start talking about India, they  are too deep in shock. We won't be able to bring her back.

Taking The Long Way Around

“Mom? Mooom!” Dobby calls jumping on Mom's head as she is sleeping.

“Dobby, you're standing on my hair. What is it?” Mom asks yawning.

“It's time for the blog. You can't go to bed until you write something.”

“I know that. I was just...resting my eyes for a minute.” Mom says as she stretches from her long nap.

“You slept so long I thought you would never wake up. Were you practicing?” Dobby asks.

“Practicing?”

“You know...”

“No Dobby I don't know.” Mom says.

“For when you're dead.”

“ 'Cuse me?”

“Well you have been really tired lately. You keep saying things like, “I hope I don't have to do this again anytime soon and Just kill me now why don't you?”

“Dobby, I was talking about painting the bedroom. It was a more labor intensive task than anticipated. Who knew forty year old paneling could be so dry and moisture repellent? People say things like that when they are frustrated, taking a moment to vocalize their difficulties with sarcasm before moving forward, that's all.”

“So you're not dying?” Dobby asks.

“No.”

“And you are done with the bedroom?”

“I am done painting it, barely.” Mom answers looking at her freshly painted blue hands.

“Good because we need to talk.” Dobby announces.

“Again? What now?” Mom whines.

“Really, 42 years old and you resort to whining?”

“I'm sleepy. It's all I've got right now.” Mom answers rubbing her eyes.

“It's bad enough you have been really busy lately and don't cuddle me enough. Then you didn't consult me on the new paint colors for our bedroom. I have discovered recently that you are not doing enough to promote my blog.” Dobby says.

“Me...not promote...your blog?” Mom answers in a clipped manner.

“It is our blog. It was my idea, I set up the page, I do all the typing, I interpret your words so the world can understand you...I feed you. You hate cuddling 90 percent of the time.” Mom stresses.

“What about that other 10 percent?” Dobby asks. “Just kidding. I love it all Mom, I really do. But if I am going to accumulate the fan base I need to get the endorsements not to mention the girlfriends I am looking for I really need you to step up your game.”

“What?” Mom asks in surprise.

Dobby decides she might be experiencing some hearing loss. “I REAL--LY NEED Y-O-U TO STEP UP YO-UR GAME!”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Dobby answers in a calm and patient manner. One has to remain calm and patient with those that are losing their noodles.

“Dobby. Listen to Me. I am your mother and I love you. We do this for fun. Not for personal gain. Not to accumulate admirers. For fun. This blog has always been a shared endeavor.”

“You mean like we share the bedroom? The one you never discussed paint colors with me about?”

Mom hides her head in her hands. “Okay Dobby. How do you feel about the paint colors?”

In A Snit Over A Tick

“Dobby kitty? Where are you kitty?” Mom walks through the house looking for Dobby. She finds him asleep under the bed. “You didn't come out and say 'hello'.”

Dobby opens one eye and glares. “Why would I? You didn't miss me.” He says.

“Of course I did. I miss you every time I have to leave the house.” Mom says.

“This is it, isn't it? It's over between the two of us. I'm being...replaced.” Dobby says accusingly as he crawls out from under the bed and slinks past Mom before she can pick him up. Mom follows Dobby through the house.

“Dobby, you're my kitty. My baby. You will always have a home with me. What is this really about?

I know this is scary, all of the furniture moving and everything but I told you I'm painting the bedroom. We are just changing things around a bit. Nothing more.”

“Really?” Dobby asks in a flat tone. “Why did you come home so late last Monday?”

“I was working.” Mom answers, sitting down in her big writing chair.

“Tuesday?” Dobby asks. “Were you working then too? It didn't smell like you had been working!”

“No. Umm...I got done at work a little early and I stopped by your Aunt Bridget's.” Mom responds.

“Wednesday?”

“Aunt Bridget's after work again.” Mom answers not really sure where this inquisition is going.

“Then after all the time you have spent away from home you come in and start moving furniture around. Painting rooms. Today, you not only went to the farm and played with dogs then after you let them into this house! Our home! You have been cheating on me Mom. You heartless wench!”

“Cheating on you? I can't cheat on you. This isn't a romantic relationship. I'm your mother.”

“How many mothers spend their time playing with other women's children while their child is...Home Alone.”

(TP and a crowd of faeries gasp in the background utterly horrified)

“You sleep all day. Besides you had food, water, a clean litter box and lots of places to nap comfortably. I was home before your wake up time. You are a cat. You were fine.”

“That doesn't change the fact that you left our home, patted me on the head and went to some other animals and...patted their heads too.”

(Faeries gasp again)

“What is that?” Dobby asks rubbing against Mom's pant leg.

“Just some mud. Shea Leah and I were outside playing with Tisha. We were running and I fell.”

“You and Shea Leah running together now isn't that cozy.”

“You are really exaggerating this.”

“When you lay down with dogs Mom you get fleas. Have you checked yourself yet?” Dobby asks.

“Have I checked for what?” Mom asks.

“Fleas...”

“Yes. Fleas. I don't want any of those infernal fleas on my body. You are not climbing into my bed until you are checked.”

“Don't be silly Dobby. I don't have any fleas.” Mom answers.

“What's this?” Dobby asks rubbing against her face. “There is something dark stuck to your hair.”

“It's probably a leaf. There are still a lot of dry leaves around.”

Dobby looks closely at the “leaf”. “Do leaves crawl Mom?”

“Oh shit! It's a bug.” Mom gets up from her chair and runs into the bathroom. Using the mirror on the front of the medicine chest to aid her search she finds the bug and removes it from her hair. “It's a tick! Ticks are horrible.” Mom tosses the tick into the bathroom sink and runs the water sending it down the drain. After turning the water off, Mom continues searching her hair with furious speed. When she looks down in the sink the tick she drowned had made its way back up the drain and crawling merrily up the sinks perimeter.

“It's back! The tick came back! Somebody kill it. Now!” Mom screams.

Tinkletoes stands in the bathroom doorway with flame thrower. “Fire kills these critters. Stand back Dobby's Mom I've got this.”

“Tinkletoes. I can't let you do this.” Mom says.

“ I know it seems inhumane right now. This tick will keep coming if we don't destroy it completely.”

“No. I don't want you to use this flame thrower in my house. You will burn my house down. I can't afford to re-build. Insurance doesn't cover grenades or flame throwers. I checked.”

“Silly human.” TP giggled from the hallway snapped his fingers and the renegade tick spontaneously combusted.

“Thank you TP!” Mom says.

“See, Mom, I told you.” Dobby says. “When you lie down with dogs...”

Nothing To Say

Mom is in her pajamas, laying on the couch, propped up against a pillow under a blanket and sipping a cup of coffee. Dobby makes his rounds through the living room rubbing against furniture and books watching Mom drink that first cup of coffee. Jumping on to the couch, Dobby makes another quick jump over Mom's legs and on to the back of the couch. Settling himself in a Sphinx like pose on a tan colored lap quilt folded across the back of the couch with his back to Mom. Dobby being a V.I.F. (Very Important Feline) appreciates Mom's extra special attention to the details that make his life bearable. Mom takes a moment away from the coffee to reach up with her left hand and scratch Dobby's back for him. Dobby turns his face to her, glares and slaps at the offending hand with her tail.

“Okay. I get it. Don't touch you,” Mom says pulling her hand away. “I know what you're thinking Dobby. I haven't written the blog for this week yet.”

“You haven't?” Dobby asks. Feigning surprise. “Well you should go do that Mom. My fans are waiting. I'd like the couch to myself. Do me a favor, turn on the television on your way out of the room, one of those home renovation shows is fine. Or a cooking show, as long as it's about fish.”

“I was just thinking. I am not going to write one this week. I really have nothing to say.”

“Nothing to say? Nothing?” Dobby asks.

“Nothing.”

“Mom you always have something to say. Even when you aren't saying anything useful you have something to say.”

“Not today.” Mom reiterates.

“Seriously Mom. You can talk. Some days I pretend to go to sleep just so you will go away and I can get some sleep.”

“That is so obnoxious. Thanks kitty.”

“I do what I can to make your life better Mom.”

“I'm really tired today too. Some quiet time would really be nice after yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“I started with exercise and finished with unplugging the drain line in the refrigerator. I was busy for twelve hours...remember?”

“You were, weren't you?”

“Why don't you go write the blog? You will feel like you did something today. Then you can have a...nap.” Dobby suggests.

“A nap. Really?” Mom asks in disbelief. “I like those.”

“I know you do Mom.”

“Just go in the kitchen get another cup of coffee, some dry cereal to munch on and hit the computer room. Remember writing equals a nap.”

“I don't have to do anything else?” Mom asks, getting up off of the couch and walking into the kitchen with her empty cup.

“No Mom nothing else.” Dobby follows her in walking past Aunt Purdy who is standing next to the laundry basket with dirty clothes in it.

“Wow. Nothing else to do all day long.” Mom says dreamily. She takes her tiny bowl of dry cereal and now full coffee cup out of the kitchen walking past Tinkletoes who is holding one of her cookie sheets. Dobby follows gesturing to Tinkletoes to hide the cookie sheet for later.

Mom walks through the living room and puts her coffee cup and snack down in the computer room next to her monitor. She turns around and heads back out of the room. Paige is sitting in the chair next to the window reading the lawn mower manual.

“Wait a second Mom. Where are you going?” Dobby asks.

“I'm cold I want to put on more clothes first.” She answers as she enters the bedroom. Mom does not see Dylan, Peter and Furnatche sitting on the unmade bed playing checkers.

Mom finally sits down in front of the monitor ready to write. “Dobby, I still don't feel like I have anything to say. Even with two cups of coffee my head is full of cobwebs.”

“Why don't you write about how much you love naps so you can take one?”

TP revs an electric sander in the background. “Silly human. No naps for you.” TP says giggling in the background.