After a moment, he seems to remember where he is, and he takes a purposeful step backwards, nodding like a gentleman. “Goodnight, Bree.”
“What book do you want to read, Sammy?” I ask as I look over to his bookshelves. It’s 8:30 p. m. and I am sitting on the end of his bed while he dries himself after his bath. Mr. Masters left early this morning and we haven’t heard from him all day. Janine left about an hour ago after cooking dinner.
“I don’t know, do we have to read? Can’t we do something else for a change?” he asks as he pulls on his striped, flannelette pajamas.
“Why, what do you want to do?”
He shrugs. “Watch YouTube or something.”
“We don’t learn much from YouTube, Sam.”
“That’s not true,” Willow calls from her room. “Everything I know I learnt from YouTube.”
“Is that where you learnt to eavesdrop?” I call.
“Funny,” she calls back.
I throw Sammy a wink. “I know, right? I’m hilarious. And I learnt it on YouTube,” I shout.
“Oh God,” I hear her mutter.
I think for a moment. What is something we could watch together, the three of us?
“I know. We could watch cat videos,” I say. Sam frowns. “What for?”
“Haven’t you ever watched cat videos on YouTube?” I ask, shocked.
“No.”
“Will, have you?” I call, knowing that she’s eavesdropping.
“Nobody does that except losers,” she hits back.
I giggle. “Lucky I’m a loser then.”
I open up Sam’s computer at his desk and I log into YouTube, searching for cat bloopers.
Sam and I take a seat at the desk and we both wait.
A toddler is walking down a driveway when a cat jumps out and crash tackles him. He falls spectacularly into the garden, and we both laugh. A printer is printing out paper in an office and a cat comes in, attacking the printer with both paws as the paper comes out, and we both laugh out loud again.
A cat gets stuck in a cereal box and goes ballistic. A cat slips on the edge of the bath and falls in.
Stupid, stupid cats, doing every possible thing wrong.
It isn’t long before Willow appears at the door, lurking and wanting to see what’s so funny.
Naughty cat after naughty cat, we watch on as they jump scare, attack dogs, fall off things and generally act like me-super goofy-and we are all hysterical with laughter. This is the funniest thing I have seen in ages, and it just keeps on getting funnier. We are splitting our sides in laughter.
My phone rings in my pocket and I fish it out. The name Mr. Masters lights up the screen.
“Hello,” I answer, trying to act serious.
“Hello, Miss Brielle,” his velvety voice purrs through the phone.
My heart skips a beat at the sound of his beautiful voice. “Hi,” I breathe.
“Is everything all right?” he asks.
I see a cat fall into a pool after attacking its owner and I giggle. “Everything is great. Everything okay with you?” I ask.
“Yes, all good here. How are the children?”
A video of a cat chasing a bear comes on the screen, and the children all hoot with laughter. I can’t help but chuckle, too.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “Where are you?”
“We’re watching cat bloopers on YouTube.”
“Cat bloopers? It’s 9:00 p. m. Bedtime was half an hour ago.”
A man sleeping on a sofa comes on the screen, and a cat jumps up and attacks his dick. He jumps in fright and falls off the couch in shock. The three of us all burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he snaps.
“The cat just attacked the man’s dick.” I laugh. “He fell off the lounge.” I can hardly speak from laughing.
“What the hell? Put the children on the phone.” I hand the phone to Sammy. “Hello, Dad,” he says, his eyes glued to the screen.
“Hello, Samuel. Is everything okay?”
“The cat attacked the man’s privates,” he blurts out.
“Stop watching such rubbish,” I hear Mr. Masters say.
A cat jumps off the kitchen bench and falls into the rubbish bin. It tips over and scares the dog, and we all burst out laughing again. Sammy can’t speak for laughing.
“The cat fell in the bin,” he screams in excitement.
“Good grief,” Mr. Masters groans. “Put your sister on the phone.” Sam passes the phone to Willow.
“Hello, Dad.” She smiles.
“Is everything okay, Will?”
A cat falls into a fish tank and we erupt again.
She laughs out loud. “Yes, Dad, everything is fine. I have to go.”
She hands the phone back to me.
“Can we get a cat?” I ask.
“Definitely not. I don’t think it’s at all humorous that a cat attacks a man’s dick while he sleeps.”
I burst out laughing again. “I’m so training it to do that to you.”
“Jesus Christ, Brielle.”
“All is good here, no need to worry.” I smile.
“Miss Brielle,” he sighs. “Please put the children to bed now. Enough with the stupid cats.”
I roll my eyes to the kids, and they both grin back at me.
“Okay, fun cop. Roger that. Say goodbye to Dad, kids,” I call.
“Goodbye, Dad,” the kids cry in unison, just as a cat jumps on a dog’s back. The dog takes off at full speed, while the cat hangs onto its back for dear life.
The kids all squeal again, and I hang up just before I burst out laughing.
We are so getting a cat.
It’s Thursday afternoon, and Sam and I are waiting for Willow outside her school. I have a surprise for her and I’m excited to share.
She walks up and gets into the car.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Hey,” she mutters as she does her seatbelt up.
I pull out into the traffic, and my eyes flicker to her in the rearview mirror.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Don’t tell me. You’re really a YouTube cat and not really a nanny?” she offers sarcastically.
“Meow,” I tease.
“Oh, God.” She winces. “Please, stop.”
I smile as I drive, and Sammy giggles. “I have two surprises for you, actually.”
“Yeah, what’re they?” She sighs, uninterested. “I thought you two could help me cook tonight.”
She frowns. “What for?”
“I gave Janine the night off.”
“Why?”
“So I could teach you how to make pasta.”
She screws up her face. “Is that my surprise? Sounds more like a punishment.”
“Well, I thought you could learn how to make fresh pasta, and then on Sunday night you could make dinner for your father, all by yourself.”
I watch her in the mirror as her eyes rise to meet mine, her interest sparked.
“Your father loved that pasta so much the other night, and imagine how surprised he will be if you know how to make it yourself.”
She bites her bottom lip as she contemplates the idea. “What’s the second surprise?”
“I enrolled us both in golf lessons.”
“What?” She shrieks. “I’m not doing golf lessons with you. You’re so embarrassing.” She stays silent for a moment. “Probably run over somebody or something,” she mutters under her breath.
I smile because I knew she was going to say that. “Okay, I won’t come, but you start next Wednesday.” I was never really enrolled anyway.
She twists her lips as she looks out the window, and I know that, even though she will never admit it, she’s kind of happy about it.
I grip the steering wheel and pretend to drive really fast. “Let’s get home and get our cooking on, baby,” I say in a French accent.
She rolls her eyes in disgust. “Oh God, make it stop.”
“You see this?” I bring my ball of dough back to me and then forward again. “You knead it across the bench.”
The children concentrate as they watch me, both of them kneading their dough.
Willow’s is sticking to the counter.
“You need some more flour,” I tell her.
She dips her hand in the jar and puts the minuscule amount onto the counter.
“Not like that,” I say. “Get a whole handful. Get into it woman. There isn’t a flour shortage.”
I dig my hand into the jar and grab a big handful of flour and throw it across the counter. A little falls on the floor.
“You’re getting it everywhere,” she snaps.
I smile, pick my hand up, and I blow a little puff of flour into the air.
“Stop it,” she snaps as she concentrates on her dough.
Sammy’s dough begins to stick, so Willow grabs a huge handful and throws it across the counter, watching as it goes all over me.
My mouth falls open in surprise as I look down at myself.
She smiles goofily. “Oops.”
“Do that again and I’m going to crack an egg over your head.” I smirk as I continue to knead.
Her eyes dance with delight, and she puts her hand into the jar, throws a handful of flour across the counter, and watches as it goes all over me again.
“Right, that’s it.” I pick up an egg and Sammy squeals.
“You wouldn’t.” She gasps.
“Oh… I think I would.” I crack it over her head and it drips down her face.
“Ahh!” she screeches. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Believe it, sister.”