Mornings, I let in the cats and stand at the counter and open their astronaut-like foil envelopes of food and squeeze them into their dishes, twisting my bare feet around in a miserable dance as they lick my toes as if they posit a causal relationship between them licking my toes and me giving them food.
I give them their food and drink my coffee and wonder if God (if you believe) or life or whatever (if you don’t or if you’re not sure) is like that too, with our prayers and demands. We pray and he’s/it’s like dude, stop licking my fucking toes, I was going to feed you anyway. Go torment a mouse or something.
that would be funny, wouldn’t it.
“Licking God’s Toes” is so the novel title that is going to earn someone a fatwa. Start writing now!
if our attitude toward god is like a cat’s attitude toward a human … hmmm. now I’m remembering the headline in The Onion’s post-9/11 edition: “God Angrily Clarifies No-Killing Rule.” that sounds about right. one minute kissing ass (but only because we have an agenda); the next: blatantly ignoring the most rudimentary normative demands.
ages ago, when I was dating, I went to a woman’s house and her cat stuck its tongue in my ear. I took that to be a good sign (which it was).
Toe licking is just not my bag, man…
when i told my family last year that i was married, my uncle told me that he had been praying DAILY for that to happen. and i was like, that must have been pretty confusing for god, who was basically getting his toes all kinds of licked and the food was Already In The Bowl.