Seriously, he is the cutest, sweetest, wildest little thing around. I now spend approximately 90% of my time hugging him, and telling him how stinkin' cute he is.
And no, much to his dismay, this little critter is not Mark. It's Fernando!
Mark is usually right there beside me--we are, in fact, co-presidents of the Fernando Fan Club. (Frankie is the only member of the house who refuses to join the club.) Mark praises the kitten's hunting skills, or whips him into a frenzy of spinning orange fuzz with the kitty wand. He is as enamored with Fernando as I am.
Except...occasionally, he is not. Every once in a while, he gets jealous of me hugging and kissing the kitten, and reminds me that boys are, in fact, are just as cute and cuddly as kittens.
"Tell her, Fernando," he prodded the cat last night. Fernando just mewed and struggled to get away.
"C'mon, Fernando," Mark told the squirming kitten. "Let's have a cute-off. Mom, who's cuter, me or Fernando?"
Usually, I'd give the win to Fernando without even thinking about it, but this face...this boy put everything he had into it, including giving me the big puppy dog eyes, which he blinked endearingly, and the protruding bottom lip.
"OK," I admitted. "That kitten is cute, but I think you win this round. Fernando won't even look at the camera!"
And with that, Mark hoisted Fernando into the air, and whooped. He let out a victory cry, still holding the kitten overhead, and danced around the room.
Fernando mewed again, and bit Mark's hands until Mark put him down. He hopped away, still mewing, and swatting at the air. He's used to being the cutest thing in the room, and he did not take kindly to his loss.
Sore loser!
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