From the diary of Griselda Vargas-Beilschmidt

18

I'm sorry for the delay. Life... 

Two memories in this part, just to be clear. And a lot of sighing.

Well, first off, we had to catch her. Have you ever tried to get hold of a hissing (she knew what was coming) furry ball with shit in her fur? Let me tell you - not easy!

Aaand we knew we were screwed when she bolted under couch.

"Griselda, why are you sitting here for," Uncle Spain checked the time "twenty minutes already with that 'angry kitten' look?" he asked, half joking and half serious.

I huffed. Uncle sighed. Then he went across the room and sat next to Gabi in the opposite corner, red-faced and determined (Gabe, not Uncle Spain).

"Son, why are you sitting here for twenty minutes already? Why don't you go play with Gris?" He didn't even mention the "angry kitten" look, because that's Gabriel's normal look. Aside from "hello bitches" of course (hello bitches angry kitten? Angry hello kitten bitches? Hello angry...I'll stop now). Gabe growled something incomprehensible at him.

"Kids, what happened?"

I took a deep breath, for I was going to use the ability to say as many things in as little breaths as possible that I inherited from Papa.

"He-he- he dared to say mango flavoured ice cream is better than caramel!"

"CARAMEL IS DISGUSTING!" The mentioned one yelled across the room.

"YOU'RE DISGUSTING!" I backfired.

Uncle Romano came down the stairs with a cup of coffee. He didn't intervene, he just came for the drama. He has a weird ability to sense when something's up. If he'd had popcorn, he would be chewing it now. But he didn't, so he settled for taking loud sips instead.

Uncle Spain sighed - at the idiocy of us, or at his partner's lack of support, I don't know.

"Look at me," he said, and we did so. "There are people who like caramel. And that's not a bad thing. But there are also people who like mango. That's not a bad thing either. And there are people who don't like ice cream at all. You know what I'm saying?"

I gasped, and so did Gabriel. 

"There are people who don't like ice cream?!" I yelled. 

"HOW?!?" screeched Gabe. "ICE CREAM IS THE BEST THING EVER!"

"I KNOW RIGHT!?"

Uncle Spain sighed again. Romano just shrugged.

But I know my cat. I know she'd do anything for a bit of mascarpone. That's the one thing she and Gabe have in common. Eventually she couldn't resist anymore.

First part done.

Mitzi looked like she was going to scratch my eyes out if I didn't put her down soon. So I did. Put her down in the tub, and held her tight.

"Ready?" Vati asked.

"Ready!"

And then the showering began. Mitzi hissed, scratched, and growled, but I didn't release her.

"Vaaaatiiiii?"

"Ja?"

"Do I have to?"

We were sitting at the doctor's waiting room and they were supposed to take a  sample of my blood. Vati sighed, probably because I asked him the same thing about fifty times already.

"Ja, you have to."

"But whyyyyyyyyyyyy?" I kept whining. Vati sighed again, mumbling something about "really being Feli's child". Probably because he already told me this about another million times.

"So we know you're healthy."

"I am healthy! I feel healthy! I feel great!" I jumped on the seat to prove my point.

"I know, I know, but still.."

"Awwwwww. But it'll sting!"

"Just a bit. Sometime it's necesseary to do things that hurt. Because it's for greater good."

"What's a 'greater good'?"

Vati sighed reeeeeeaaaaaally deeply.

Finally, finally, Mitzi was clean.

So after she was free, she decided to run away from the awful place, settled near a radiator and licked herself with a hurt look.

Don't worry. She'll be fine in a day or so. She always is. Gabe always is. I always am. Because deep, deep, deep down she knows that it had been only what's best for her. 

Even if she dislikes it.

And now I have to desinficate the scratches on my arms. Even if it's going to sting a tiny bit. Because sometimes we just have to do things that are going to hurt a tiny bit.

But like Mitzi's offense, the pain won't last forever.

Right?

____________________

Hope you don't mind the delay too much. If you do, blame it on our history professor. 

Thanks for reading and see ya next time (hopefully sooner)! :D