Scene: early Saturday morning. The bedroom is dim and quiet. Woody and I are still in bed, he’s starting to wake up while I’m reading something on my iPhone, with Rocket sleeping on top of me.
“You have a kitty.”
“Yes. Wait, what do they call those hoo-hoo toupees? Merkins! She’s like a kitty merkin.”
“Look it up.”
“I DON’T WANT TO.”