There's a Ninja in my oatmeal

Delilah's name has stuck, though I mostly call her Dee Dee. Sometimes, when she's particularly fiesty, like fiesty enough to pounce on Lily who is three times her size, I call her Ninja. It fits. She's black clad, nimble, and kick ass. The only trouble with her really is that she eats EVERYTHING. Including our food.

Let's say you're at the kitchen table eating something that's not even in a cat's nature to crave. Like Fruit Loops, or (in my case) cinammon raisin oatmeal. You get up to chase your son because he's running through the hallway with his underwear on his head instead of brushing his teeth like you told him to do. The Ninja kitten will wait. Perhaps she was the one who influenced your son to do this in the first place. She needed to distract you and she's noticed that 1) you will drop anything you are doing if you notice that one of the children is deliberately disobeying you, and 2) your son doesn't like to wear pants. So odds are she found the underwear on the floor and paraded around with it on her head to give your boy the idea. He was like a moth to flame. And now you've jumped up from your breakfast and Ninja is hidden in a corner, rubbing her paws together with a Cheshire cat grin, only more malevolent and slightly hungry.

You disappear around the corner. She alights the table. She sniffs the bowl and thinks, "One bite and this human will throw out the entire bowl. Mmmmmmwahahahaha!" She nibbles. She rubs her face on the sides of the bowl so that oats will stick to her whiskers. She is so involved with the oatmeal debauchery that she doesn't notice that you have walked back into the room, and you're standing there with your arms folded, tapping your foot. She gives you a look that challenges you. This look says, "Yeah. I'm eating your oatmeal, ya bastard." You go to sweep her off the table, but her reflexes are lightening fast and she leaps onto the floor, her maniacal laughter filling the hallway as she runs.

You stare at your ruined oatmeal. You take it as a sign from God that you're wasting your time dieting, and you eat a half a bag of double stuffed Oreo cookies. You seem to recall a Bible verse you learned as a child that implied that creme filling was next to Godliness. Amen.

And now I'm hungry.