(no subject)
Today at Burlington Coat Factory, a tiny children's book sneak-attacked me and made me feel so sad, and yet so happy.
Picture: Black cat looking into a window. Pink cat looking out of the same window.
"Smitty wants to go inside. Kitty wants to go outside."
Picture: Black cat looking up a staircase. Pink cat looking down the same staircase."
"Smitty wants to go upstairs. Kitty wants to go upstairs."
Picture: Black and pink cat drinking from a bowl of milk.
"Smitty wants to be with Kitty."
I don't know what it was about this sentence, but it's just so sweet, and I completely didn't see it coming. It was like the book told me it loved me on the first date, but rather than be freaked out, I was glad because I'd been wanting to tell the book the same thing but I didn't because I figured it would be freaked out if I did. Know what I'm saying?
Picture: Black cat looking into a window. Pink cat looking out of the same window.
"Smitty wants to go inside. Kitty wants to go outside."
Picture: Black cat looking up a staircase. Pink cat looking down the same staircase."
"Smitty wants to go upstairs. Kitty wants to go upstairs."
Picture: Black and pink cat drinking from a bowl of milk.
"Smitty wants to be with Kitty."
I don't know what it was about this sentence, but it's just so sweet, and I completely didn't see it coming. It was like the book told me it loved me on the first date, but rather than be freaked out, I was glad because I'd been wanting to tell the book the same thing but I didn't because I figured it would be freaked out if I did. Know what I'm saying?