I'm a responsible adult.

[apocalypsos]

Which means I'm cleaning my apartment. Although that's mostly because it's distracting me from my writing because it's a mess and because I might be getting a new dryer from my cousin and I have to talk to the landlord about him coming in and swapping it out with the one that doesn't work.

Anyway, I moved the small set of bookshelves that I stuck in the living room into the office and put the chinchilla cage on top. It's the perfect size for it and I can put their supplies in the bottom.

Whatever. What this is leading up to is that doing so reminded me of having this conversation with my mom a few days ago:

Mom: "How can you even tell them apart?"
Me: "Uh, they're MY pets. Of course I can tell them apart."
Mom: "Well, I can't."
Me: "Dexter's a fatass. He's, like, twice Elliot's size. Plus, Elliot's got thinner fur and he's friendlier."
Mom: "Oh."
Me: "Wait, aren't you the one who flips out when people ask you how you can tell your cats apart?"
Mom: "Yes, but my cats aren't the same color."
Me: "You're going to seriously tell me you've never mixed up Wilson and Riley (who basically look exactly alike from the back)? Or Simon and Spencer (same thing)?"
Mom: "... yeah, but that's different."

Yeah. Okay, sure it is.

Comments

[fyrdrakken]

My mother expresses astonishment that I can generally tell our two black cats apart with a glance. Different shape around the head and jaw, and sometimes I mix them up but 90-95% of the time I can tell even before the cat in question opens his or her mouth.