cat’s ass

Warning: This post may leave you with a permanent aversion to turkey necks… or perhaps an unhealthy attraction to them.

It’s surprising how often I have a week where the coincidental funnies all have a similar theme. That’s what happened this week: it was all (loosely) food-related.

The first laugh occurred when I was eating lunch, digging happily into a giant jar of sauerkraut. (For those who are shuddering right now, Hubby completely agrees with you.) But I love sauerkraut despite the fact that it looks like something long-ago-drowned and smells like rotting socks.

You know how you’ve got that one little spot in your throat that’s supersensitive to everything from toast crumbs to pickle juice? That spot where the slightest touch makes your throat spasm and your eyes tear up and your nose run; and if you try to talk you sound like the Godfather with laryngitis?

Yeah, that one. I’d like to know what evolutionary function that stupid little spot ever served. It can’t be some built-in defense against poisoning, because by the time anything gets down that far it’s already too late.

Anyhow.

I got a tiny bit of sauerkraut juice on that spot. And my throat closed and my eyes teared up, etcetera. After I’d finished hacking and mopping up tears and was capable of speaking again, I croaked, “Got some sauerkraut in the wrong spot.”

To which Hubby wryly replied, “Oh, you mean ‘in your mouth’?”

The second laugh (albeit accompanied by a shudder of revulsion) happened when I was cooking a turkey on Saturday; a largish bird because we were going to have ten people around our table.

What’s funny about that, you ask? Well, the story started last week when one of my internet searches went off into the weeds, and in the process of navigating back I ran across onanism (children, take your hands out of your pants and look that up). That led to the unwelcome discovery that medieval women sometimes used turkey necks for, um, non-nutritional purposes.

Eeeeuuuwwww! Consider how rarely they bathed in the first place, and then add some lovely Eau de Decomposing Meat on top of that… *shudder*

So you can imagine the look on my face when I dragged out THE BIGGEST HONKIN’ TURKEY NECK I’VE EVER SEEN from the cavity of this bird. I wasn’t sure whether to blush, laugh, or gag. (I laughed, of course.)

The final bout of laughter occurred several hours later when we were all sitting around stuffed with the aforementioned turkey. (Note: We stuffed ourselves from the top down, not from the bottom up. Just wanted to clarify that.)

Anyhow, this was a pseudo-Christmas bash because we hadn’t gotten together in December, so a few small gifts were exchanged. Ever the queen of refined taste, I had made these hot-pads for the cat lovers:

It’s a cat-owner’s most frequent view of the cat.

Merriment ensued, but we lost it completely when one of my friends (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) not-so-innocently remarked, “Gee, you could have made it really Christmassy by leaving a bit of tinsel hanging out of the hole.” If you’ve ever owned a cat or dog, you know how that story goes.

And that was my week, from beginning to, um… end. How was yours?

(Your week, not your… oh, never mind.)

Last year I mentioned that my home is a repository for creepy and disturbing items. But I also have a number of things that aren’t exactly creepy, but nevertheless indicate to the world that the inhabitants of this house are just not quite… normal.

For instance, there’s this:

Yes, that is a cat’s-ass fridge magnet.

There is, of course, a story behind (pun intended) this.

Our family has always loved cats. I had cats for a couple of decades; my step-mom has a cat; and after being feline-free for quite a while, my sister got an adorable little orange tabby christened Phoebe several years ago.

Phoebe is lovely, but, like all cats, she’s fond of mooning. Especially as a kitten she loved to get her butt right up in my brother-in-law’s face, much to his vociferous disapproval. So when I discovered a package of fridge magnets shaped like cats’ asses, I had to buy them for him as a gag gift for Christmas that year. He duly gagged when he opened them, there was much hilarity, and then I got distracted by cooking and visiting and thought no more about it.

Until everybody left and I discovered the Siamese ass, the rudest one of the bunch, stuck to my fridge.

I laughed (yes, I have to say it) my ass off.

The cat’s-ass magnet subsequently became a family joke, and at one point my then-teenage niece got creative with my one of my other fridge magnets:

Is that modesty or lasciviousness?

Anyway, years passed and I had pretty much stopped noticing the cat’s ass, until my nephew and his wife visited with their kids last Christmas. Aged seven and four, the kids investigated the house and then joined us in the kitchen. I was yakking with the adults and didn’t notice what was going on until a little voice spoke up.

“Excuse me.” (These kids are polite.) “What’s that?” A little finger points up at the fateful magnet. Two wide-eyed stares fix on my face.

“What do you think it is?”

Nothing but silence and round eyes. They know damn well what it is, but there’s no way they’re going to say it to a strange adult (and I’m as strange as they come).

I can’t help cracking (sorry) a smile. “It’s a cat bum.”

Squeals of delight. “A bum! It’s a cat bum!” Giggle-giggle-giggle!

But after they left I stopped paying attention to the magnet again, except to glance at it occasionally and grin at the memories.

Until last night.

Phone rings. It’s my sister. Laughing her ass off.

Her: “Guess what I just got! 3D cat butts!”

Me: “Wha…?”

Her: “3D cat butts!”

And she sent me a picture:

Yes. Yes, those are 3D cat butts.

Apparently a co-worker had found this package of fridge magnets and bought them for her, without even knowing the family folklore.

And so another round of tradition begins. Some families treasure special china or heirloom jewellery. We bond over cat asses.

Any oddball heirlooms or traditions in your family?

Author Diane Henders

Canadian thrillers with humour and heart

That Turkey Neck Seems Glad To See Me…

It’s The Cat’s Ass!