Kitty Moments #2

I won't try to explain to you why I call them Kitty Moments (only one or two people would understand what this meant. I've tried to explain it before, and I think you just had to be there), but I'll tell you what they are.
A kitty moment occurs when someone says something or does something, which almost instantaneously triggers a series of thoughts in your head, until your thoughts finally end somewhere, usually nowhere near where it started. I think pretty much everyone has experienced this. So here are some of my recent kitty moments. The problem is that a lot of times, the moment isn't complete; I can't remember some of the details. So if you remember this, feel free to elaborate :)


I remember riding with my sister to Powell one day. It had been snowing pretty crazily, so the back roads were covered in snow. We were driving along, when all of a sudden, we hit a huge snow drift. Maybe not such a bad thing if we had been in a truck or something, but we were in her little car. We started sliding and spinning off the road. I'm sure only a few seconds had passed, but it felt like a long time. After a moment of shock, we both bust up laughing. We ended up in the ditch, and the snow got so compacted in the wheel well, they wouldn't turn. My dad said it was my sister's own fault for driving through the deep snow drifts in such a little car. I always had the best times visiting my sister in Powell lol

Maybe you just had to be there. Me and my sister were getting a pizza from Little Caesar's. We get up to order the Hot n Ready. I think we had forgotten to grab enough to pay for the tax as well, but we didn't have enough. We started discussing if we might have some change in the car. The cashier is getting really impatient (keep in mind, about 30 seconds or so had passed since we ordered the pizza), huffs, and says, "Look, I'll just pay for the tax out of my own pocket. We have to keep this line moving." We both turned around at the same time. We were the only ones in the store. So, to appease the cashier, we let him pay the tax. We hand him the $5, then he takes $1 out of his pocket, sticks in it the register, and hands us the change. We were very confused. It's about that time it hits the guy. "Wait a minute. That's my change." We gave it back, took our pizza, and walked out the door. I believe the first words spoken were, "What was that all about?" "I don't know, but at least it kept the line moving."

We had to have been pretty young, because even if we wanted to do this when we were older, I think we would have thought better. I don't remember whose funeral it was. I know it was a family member, because we were at the viewing, and we were there longer than the obligatory few minutes to say our condolences. As kids often do, we got bored (and when I say "we" I'm not even sure who else it was. I'm assuming a few siblings and cousins). If anyone remembers the old Haskell funeral home, you'll remember the plush carpet all over. Probably by pure accident, someone discovered that if you took your shoes off, you could get a TON of static electricity going on. We spent a great deal of time shuffling around the rooms shocking each other. I don't know if the adults were just too preoccupied with the event to notice us, or if they saw no harm in it, but I don't remember anyone ever telling us to stop. Luckily, I also don't recall anyone trying to shock the deceased :)

You know how siblings are. They love to torment you, especially about members of the opposite sex. My little brother may or may not have had a crush on a certain girl, but he couldn't admit it. Instead of using the girl's real name, we'll just call her "Jane Doe." One day, my older brothers told him that the louder he screamed, "I love Jane Doe!" the more he didn't love her. Of course, he had to prove that he didn't love this girl, so at the top of his lungs, he yelled, "I love Jane Doe!" Unfortunately for my little brother, my younger brothers had a tape recorder. They recorded his declaration of love. I wonder what ever happened to that tape...

I used to have a rock. There wasn't really anything special about this rock. I painted it all black once upon a time, but I don't even know why. It was really just a rock. But I kept it for some reason. One day, my brother took my rock. I don't remember why he took it, but I was upset. After quite a bit of fighting, my parents stepped in. I guess they were trying to teach my brother a lesson about not taking things that aren't yours. They said, "You can either give her the rock, or you can give her $5. Michelle gets to choose." Keep in mind, there was really nothing special about this rock. It was definitely not worth $5, so the money would have been the obvious choice, right? My brother was pretty mad because he was about to lose $5 over a stupid rock. I said, "I'll take the rock." There was complete silence in the room, and everyone turned and stared at me. "What?" My parents were confused. "I want the rock." Now let me explain my reasoning here. Everyone has stories of being tortured by their siblings. There's a great example right above this. In my mind, if I took the $5, my brother would torture me until he was satisfied that he got at least $5 worth of meanness. I didn't want to be tortured. I just wanted things back the way they were. So I chose the rock. Hind sight is 20/20. To this day, probably 20 years later, I am still made fun of for choosing the rock over the money. "Oh, you're selling that for $5? Here, how about a rock instead?" "Hey, I noticed you had $10 in your bank. I'll trade you for 2 rocks." "Merry Christmas! I got you a rock." "As my last will and testament, I hereby leave my rock garden to Michelle. You are now a millionaire." (Ok, that one didn't happen, but I will not be one bit surprised if it does.) I should have taken the money.