Cat on a cold tin roof

Goway's status in this house has been somewhat confusing for him these past few weeks. The kittens are deferential towards him, and he's really not used to that. An occasional box on their ears to prove his point, and he's then been happy to have feline friendship, the three of them winding around each other and sniffing happily together.

And then the kittens stopped being scared of the people, and Goway's status as top cat needed boosting. No longer was it enough for him to sit on the chair and them on the floor; they were climbing onto chairs and even onto his coveted windowsill. So poor Goway has been searching out ever higher posts.

This morning he excelled himself. Making the most of the fact that he is allowed outside whilst the other two are not, he decided the top of our bus would be a fine spot to look down on them as they sat in the windowsill.
Which was all fine, until he realised he couldn't get down again.

The morning had been going so well until that point - all children dressed and ready, no rogue turdlets, one smallish pile of cat sick but that's forgiveable, and three healthy children all ready for the school run.

And then, losing every remaining shred of dignity, I found myself standing on our ramp, arms above my head, telling one small ginger cat that he'd made his own way up there, he must be able to get back down again, and that if he really couldn't I'd help him but that he had to just move over to the edge first. As it turns out, this cat was invisible to anyone walking past the other end of the van - and, inevitably, the entire world was walking past the other end of the van on their way to school. So, what the rest of the world got to see was one woman in a weetabix stained tshirt waving madly and talking to her invisible friend who was apparently 10 feet tall. Joy.

After that, Mog's school bus being a mere 10 minutes late seemed almost reasonable. The TA kid's buggy held itself together for the march to school, and, joy of joys, LF's 1:1 was back in school today so everything else was back to normal.

Wheelchair maintenance service people are coming to school today to service LF's power chair. What are the odds of them needing to take it away, leaving me with more chairs than hands to push them?

I'd care more, if it weren't for thisand thisand the fact that they're now brave enough to do thisbut only if I sit on the floor.

Tia