On Cats and Hospitals

On general principle, I don't really dislike cats. The two kittens Austin and I have now are actually pretty fun in a lot of ways. However, when I'm lying peacefully in my bed, minding my own business and I suddenly feel my ankles pierced by tiny claws and a few teeth, there's a part of me that wants to "accidentally" spasm my leg and send the little turd flying across the room. I am not a violent or mean person though, so I refrained from doing so.

Hospitals on the other hand, make me crabby most of the time. They usually smell weird. They're often hard to navigate and easy to get lost in. And more often than not, there's a creepy looking old person at the front desk, who when you ask for directions on where to go, or if such and such person has been admitted yet, they give you a sour look which implies that you should know better and young whipper-snappers in their day had better manners than to interrupt them with ridiculous questions.

I'm glad that I'm a children's pastor and not a senior's pastor. It limits my time in hospitals to the more non-boring areas, and there's usually some fun books to read. Either that or one of those table toys with the thick wires that you slide the big wooden beads around on.