I slip on a white shirt with blue jean shorts, white belt with a star buckle, and a light blue jacket on. I struggle as I try to fit my tail through the hole in the jeans. Why is it so difficult? Oh there we go! I flick my tail back and forth. I am pleased now. Quickly running out of my room and crash land into the chair at the table. How fun!
"You be careful dear!", Cordelia snaps at me.
"I will!", I roll my eyes. She treats me like a baby sometimes! It's been a two weeks since I met Cordelia. I'm so happy here. She feeds me, bathes me, pets me, and lets me sleep here! I haven't been upset once being with her. She gives me candy when I am extra good and sends me to the corner when I'm extra bad.
I don't like that corner. All I can do is stare at the wall. My thoughts enter my brain and I hate it. It's like being alone in that corner is a way for the demons inside to just grasp me for the time being. Meanwhile the candy she gives me is sweet and juicy. I like it way more than the corner so I try to be good here. Cordelia sets a plate down with three scrambled eggs and two pieces of sausage. My belly grumbles. It smells so good!
I eat while Cordelia slowly eats and reads the newspaper. This is my life now and I have no complaints. No brothers to annoy me and no Mojo Jojo to get on my case about how stupid I am. I wonder though, do they miss me? Are they worried? Do they even notice? I sigh and stuff my face with eggs. I need to stop this thinking. It's bringing me down.
"How is it?", Cordelia asks me.
"Delicious!", I exclaim.
"Well, good! I need to go grocery shopping though soon. I'm almost out of ingredients. Can you believe it?"
"You make food almost everyday!"
"Only because you are here. I never got the courage to start cooking again. I was always by myself so there was no point to making a meal."
"Now you can have meals everyday for the rest of your life!"
She stares at me and giggles, "That sounds nice, Boomer."
"Hmmmm?", I'm confused by the sudden change in her voice. When she said that, it was warm and soft compared to her regular voice.
Cordelia continues to eat. I'm way done before her and just sit there. I find it rude if I just leave her at the table. Although this awkward silence feels weird to me. She's pretty healthy for her age though I'm told. She's 80 but still exercises and does things like everybody else. I don't see why her family never visits. She finishes her breakfast and sets the dishes in the sink.
I fly over and smile at her, "I can do the dishes!"
"Oh you're such a sweetheart! I would appreciate that!", She grabs the newspaper and walks into the living room. Meanwhile, I grab the dishes out of the sink and place them aside. Clean the sink, fill it up with water and soap, and start making the dishes squeaky clean. I even check to make sure they make squeaky noises before I put them in the dry rack. It took me awhile to learn how to do this. The first time, I broke 2 plates. The second time, I made sure they squeaked for cleanliness but only in one spot, so the rest of the plate was still dirty. The third time I got dish soap in my eyes and cried for an hour. Now this time, I'm determined to get it done right!
I scrub and scrub. My hands turn wrinkly. Gross! When I finish I fly into the living room happily and cheer, "I got it done! They're done!"
"Oh, well, lets just see about that shall we?", She gets up and goes to the sink. I walk up next to her and stare. I did it right, right? She turns to me and smiles, "Beautiful!", YES!, "But...", Uh oh..., "You need to let the water out and clean the sink,silly!"
"What? Why?", I ask.
"Because you are done with the water", She pulls the plug up and the water drains. This is so complicated. Why can't we get someone else to do this? I could always kidnap someone for it. Although she says that's wrong. She even says breaking store windows and taking the stuff inside is wrong. I got put in the corner for 2 hours for that. It was torture. She even stole my candy from me to show me how it felt. It was...mean.
Cordelia grabs my hand and takes me to the living room. She sits in her red wooden rocking chair, turning the TV on for me. I sit in front of it, not to close though or she yells at me, while she starts to knit. We watch the old western shows she calls it. It has horses and cowboys shooting each other. It's really fun to watch.
Some time goes by and when I look back, she is sound asleep in her chair. She looks so peaceful, like she passed on and is pleased with how her life was. I smile at her then turn back to the TV. So far this life is perfect.