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MOM.

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[ Loiosh, an orange tabby, is standing on my desk, looking pointedly over my shoulder & out the window. ]

Guess who is BORED OUT OF HIS TINY SKULL.

I mean yes, me too, but.

He keeps pawing at things on my desk, just to express his desire for SOMETHING to PLS HAPPEN. He’s doing it as I type.

This was earlier, though.

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[ He’s on my desk again, seen from the side, one forepaw raised from where he was poking at a hair clip. ]

MOM. MOM. MOMMA. MOM.

… yeah baby, I feel this, it’s just not quite spring YET.

Just before I took THIS one he was tearing around the house, but as soon as he saw the phone he hadda pose.

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[ He’s standing on the middle level of a cat tree, halfway through making blinky eyes, but his ears are VERY ALERT and his fur is ruffled. ]

He’s TRYING to play it cool. He’s never been any good at that.