Becca’s Cyber Home

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve posted a Monday Madness. Sorry — been a heckuva month! Today’s Monday Madness comes straight to you from the halls of the Taylor household. Imagine, if you will, a sweet, loving, adorable little feline angel called Rosco.

Normally, Rosco is indeed sweet, loving, adorable, and even moderately well-behaved, until he is confronted with his most favorite thing in all the world: human food! The moment the tempting scent of human food reaches his cute little pink nose, Sweet Rosco becomes Evil Rosco. Or, as we Taylors have affectionately dubbed him, Jungle Boy. To illustrate, it’s now standard operating procedure to lock Jungle Boy in kitty jail (i.e., the spare bathroom) while we have family dinners, as he’s been known to sneak into the Thanksgiving turkey.

There are certain foods that really bring out the jungle in Jungle Boy. McDonald’s hamburgers, chicken tenders, Totino’s Supreme pizza, and the aforementioned Thanksgiving turkeys. Now we can add another to the list: Panda Express fried rice.

Yes, boys and girls, my carnivorous little kittly goes ga-ga over the peas and carrots in Panda Express fried rice. Seriously ga-ga! It’s like he’s a kitty trapped in dog clothing. He actually begs! But at least dogs (unless they’re named Duffy) will respond to a sternly commanded, “NO!” or “Down!” Jungle Boy has devised a different begging method. It’s called the Jungle Boy Sucker Punch.

This cute little orange kitty snuggles up to your leg like it’s cuddle time. If you’re sitting on the couch, he drapes himself over your leg and stares forlornly at your plate, as though he’s wasting away. I mean, he could probably convince you that he’s emaciated and dying from starvation. All this time, he’s inching closer to your plate, pausing every so often to cast you under his spell with a gaze from that angelic little face.

Soon, he’s a mere six inches away from your plate, which it turns out, is prime Jungle Boy striking distance. The forlorn stare becomes an inquisitive investigation that is assisted by cocking his head a full 90 degrees in both directions. He settles back down with one more spell-casting gaze.

KA-POW!!!!

After lulling you into complacency, Jungle Boy strikes with lightening speed! His orange- and white-striped paw whips out like a frog tongue grabbing an unsuspecting fly. And if the gods are on his side, he’s just scored your dinner.

I just got a call from my hubby, who stayed home today because he wasn’t feeling well. Apparently Nathan was feeling better, though, because he drove down to Panda Express for lunch. I knew it was going to be bad when he started out with, “I just called to tell you how bad YOUR son is.” (Cuz we’re dorks who refer to our cats like they’re our children.)

Nathan settled in upstairs to eat his Panda Express in front of our groovy new TV (so that’s why he stayed home!), but the lunch paradise didn’t last long. Within seconds, Jungle Boy emerged, and all Nathan had to defend his lunch with was a half-empty spray bottle. Finally, it appeared that a dampened Jungle Boy was going to retreat to the other end of the couch to lick his wounds and covet the rice from a distance.

KA-POW!!!

An orange furball of fury pounced Nathan’s styrofoam lunch container, hurling rice everywhere. Nathan yells, “It was like a &*#@ing confetti machine had exploded all over me! There was so much rice in so many places, I didn’t know what to do!”

By now, I was having trouble listening to Nathan’s retelling of the “Great Fried Rice Disaster of Aught 6″ because I was trying to stifle my giggles. I mean, my office door was still open. I don’t need to convince my coworkers that I’m insane–they already suspect too much.

I was finally able to pull myself together enough to ask him if he managed to eat any of his lunch, to which he replied, “Well, luckily the entrees stuck to the styrofoam.”