That seems a rather apt description, too. Raging tantrums, messy attempts at eating, stumbling about, since we don’t quite have total control of our faculties, all of which we overlook and forgive because, well, dammit, they are just so unbearably CUTE.
Tiny Cat Pants is three years old today, readers. I started babysitting over there around two years ago. Aunt B made me laugh, cry, think and rage. Reading her made me aware that I am indeed an oppressor, a staunch defender of the Patriarchal status quo, an enemy to be feared and plotted against, but still loved by her nonetheless.
What I admire most about TCP is that Aunt B is incredibly transparent. The reader seldom if ever has to guess what B’s agenda is, and she lets us in on the most mundane aspects of her existence, but in a way that really makes us care.
Another reason I love her blog so much is the quality of the people who join in her discussions. Loyal readers from everywhere make every thread interesting.
So, three years. Heres to 33 more.
Yup.
She’s the girl.
Or should I say woman.