King of the party
This weekend was The Big Finn and Mrs TBF's annual Cinco de Mayo fiesta. Luckily, this year we took it much easier than last year--I guess it's always good when your 33-weeks-pregnant wife doesn't get tanked on margaritas. You'd think being more sober would make us less likely to have an accident like last year, when Gretchen just dropped her margarita on the floor for no reason. But then, you'd be wrong. First, I tried to open a beer and it promptly foamed up and overflowed all over the floor (strike one...but let the record show that two people after me did the exact same thing, so I think someone went in and shook up all the beers to mess with us). Then, I was trying to get some ice and ended up dumping the lid of the ice holder, along with a bunch of ice cubes, all over the kitchen floor (strike two...and this may have been the most egregious violation of all, since finding ice in Switzerland is like finding fresh papayas in Antarctica). Then, we were standing outside and all of a sudden without any warning my margarita cup literally crumpled in my hand (strike three...yer out!). TBF made a comment about my Kung Fu grip, but I think there's no coincidence that it happened right after Gretchen told someone that the baby could be born that night.
Anyway, back to what was supposed to be the main point of this post: King. Neither of us are cat people, and Gretchen in particular can be violently allergic to them. So naturally, the TBF's cat King made a beeline for her as soon as we got there. When we sat down to eat the tastiest enchiladas this side of Allschwil, King planted himself firmly in front of Gretchen. Then, just in case she didn't notice him sitting there, he would occasionally reach out and tap her on the leg with his paw to try to get her to slip him some Mexican food (without success, I might add). Despite my usual disdain for cats, King gets a big thumbs-up because he seems to have just a little bit of dog attitude in him. Here he is perched hopefully in front of Gretchen's plate (and pregnant belly):
Anyway, back to what was supposed to be the main point of this post: King. Neither of us are cat people, and Gretchen in particular can be violently allergic to them. So naturally, the TBF's cat King made a beeline for her as soon as we got there. When we sat down to eat the tastiest enchiladas this side of Allschwil, King planted himself firmly in front of Gretchen. Then, just in case she didn't notice him sitting there, he would occasionally reach out and tap her on the leg with his paw to try to get her to slip him some Mexican food (without success, I might add). Despite my usual disdain for cats, King gets a big thumbs-up because he seems to have just a little bit of dog attitude in him. Here he is perched hopefully in front of Gretchen's plate (and pregnant belly):
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