Cat in the Car

Yesterday was a busy day with many errands to run and preparations made for the Husband and me to go out of town this weekend. (Still not finished with that, but had to tell this story!) While waiting in line for one such errand, the two-year-old native became restless, so I proudly produced my iPod for her to play Peek-a-Boo Barn. (Because every once in a while I get smart about this parenting thing and prepare ahead.)

For all of the non-parents and parents of children old enough to enjoy actual games, this one involves a barn with a "knock, knock" sound, followed by an animal sound, at which point the child is supposed to guess the animal name before using the touch screen to slide the barn door open and check their answer. Of course, my child never takes the time to guess an animal because she is too busy sliding her finger back and forth as fast as she can between animals to get the door open as quick as possible. But it was a good thought on the distraction thing, right?

Back to the errand, we finished up and headed to the parking lot. I strapped the child in to her car seat and climbed back over the passenger seat to get out of my two door VW Beetle and walked around the car. I flopped with the weariness of an errand running mom into my seat and started the engine. All the sudden I heard "MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!" coming from somewhere in the general direction of my hood. I slammed the key back over as quickly as possible, but I immediately began to feel my stomach lurch. I knew I had just made cat salad under the hood of my car, and that's not what I had in mind for lunch.

I could still hear the cries when I cut the engine. Relieved that the cat was only mangled and not dead, I thought maybe it was just UNDER the car. So I jumped out and looked. No cat. I got back in the car. Still a cat crying. I got back out. I heard the child call "Mommy! What are you doing??" Checking the trunk, of course. Because a wayward cat could definitely navigate its way into my trunk! What have I been teaching this child that she can't understand her mother's illogical thought process?? My thorough search of my trunk and all of its contents produced no cat. (Throw me a bone here and at least ACT surprised, will you?)

I got back in the car, and to my dismay, heard once again the cry of that deranged feline. I was starting to think I had lost my mind, when the child finally said something that made me feel better. "Mommy? Is that a cat?" Phew. She hears it too. There was one last search I hadn't ventured yet, so in the spirit of Austin Powers (why not?) I popped the hood and got back out.

When you pop the hood of a new Beetle, it's almost like a funny joke. The hood opens a little, and the release latch pops itself out at you. With the qualities on the front end of the car already being face-like, this action causes the car to look like it stuck its tongue out at you. I giggle every time, including this one. (In fact, I'm convinced that one day I'm going to break down in the worst of circumstances and the highway patrol is going to find me along the side of a dark highway clutching my revolver and giggling hysterically at my release latch. Please bail me out when this happens.)

After a nice fit of giggles, I began to picture a really mad cat cooped up under my hood and his reaction to my reaching for said release latch. I held my breath and stood as far back as was possible for me to still clasp the latch, and with much reserve, threw the hood open. This produced another fit of giggles, because I started to realize the absurdity of the suggestion that a cat might fit under my hood. A piece of paper can't fit under the hood of that thing. And yet, here I am, peering under and wondering what I'm going to say when some nice stranger comes and asks if I need help.

I stood very still and listened hard. No meowing. Hmmmm. I can only hear the cat when I'm inside the car, and I can't see it anywhere outside the car. Somewhere in my life I was taught to reason that these facts meant the cat was in the car.

No way. I'm crazy, but I'm not blind. I refused to believe a cat climbed in my car without my knowing it. However, I had run out options, so I closed the hood and slid back in the car. "MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!" I leaned over to look in the floorboard of the passenger side. I couldn't believe I was actually looking there. I listened a second, because it seemed louder from that position. I also noticed that the cat had perfect rhythm...and that it was apparently meowing AND knocking...on my purse...

I dug through my purse on the passenger's seat and pulled out the iPod and turned off Peek-a-Boo Barn. The worst part? My child laughing at me hysterically from the back seat. Ok, I guess she was laughing with me...but she didn't stop there. She went right ahead and kindly stole my story.

That's right. My two year old infringed on my copyright. We took lunch to her Daddy (Ha! I just realized I could say my child came from the mailman...oh...that's GOOD.) and as we sat picnicking on the sidewalk of his mail route, I began a dramatic reenactment of the event. I wasn't even to the trunk yet when the Small One barged in and threw out the punch line:

"And mommy got in the car and outta the car and in the car and the kitty said "meow" and mommy looked and guess what daddy? IT WAS THE HIPOD! HAHAHAHAHAHA PEEK-A-BOO BARN SAID MEOW!" She laughed out loud hysterically as I sat, stunned, wondering if my own mother used to be a wonderful story teller until I barged in and took over her stage.

She always has been my "first baby of the stage." I guess we're in for a wilder ride than I originally guessed.