not a bad question

Approaching bedtime. Palinode and Schmutzie loitering by the coats in the hallway (This is where the marriage happens, in moments by the coats and over next to the cupboards, fumbling for keys, fumbling at zippers, clapping down a pint, a morning peck on the lips in the darkness of the bedroom). Schmutzie picks the cat up and squeezes it.

Schmutzie: He lets me kiss him all I want now.

She kisses the cat on the forehead. The cat stares off into the middle distance, waiting for food.

Schmutzie: He hardly ever bites my face anymore when I kiss him.

She kisses the cat again.

Palinode: Tell me again. Why do we own a cat?