Today the sprinkler was on and the cat was outside. Mei Mei, logically, decided it would be a good idea to wet the cat. So she took — what else — a toy sword and repeatedly applied small amounts of water to the cat's fur. She also experimented with other applicators: a toy plastic hockey puck and a pop can. (I'm not kidding.) She used the outside of the can, like a roller; she didn't pour water on the cat. In this, she is wise.
Once or twice she told me or Mrs. OccupationDad that she was putting water on the cat. When asked why, she said, "I giving her bathtub."
"You're giving him a bath?" I clarified.
OK, purpose; that's good.
Soon it was time to dry the cat with kitchen towels. She didn't have to say this: "Y' know, this kitchen towel would make a darn good cat dress."
Before you know it, I was an accomplice, helping her tie it on. Well, then it was ON. (Not the towel, the comedy.)
I asked Mei Mei, "Is Tigger your buddy? You like to dress him?"
She smiled, "Yeah, now her pretty!"
Soon Tigger got up and began to walk, his regalia looking more like a cape. Mei Mei noticed, "He a superhero."
It's about 77 degrees, and the cat has the built-in fur coat under the dress/cape; he's a good cat.
When Mei Mei charmed me into trying to put towel number two on the cat (who, incidentally has all of claws) as a "skirt," I should have known even this saintly cat would draw the line somewhere. Fortunately, he didn't draw that line in blood on one of our arms. No one was injured in the momentary, but quite clear, resistance. Once the skirt plan was scrapped, peace was restored.
I have no big finish for this one ... except pictures ... 1000 words; you do the math.