My Wife is Becoming a Drug Dealer

So before everyone freaks out, no, my wife is not dealing meth. She may eventually deal math, but not meth. How is my wife a drug dealer, then? Well, she decided to buy catnip for the cat. Now everyone knows, or is about to learn, catnip is like weed for cats. I don't know why, but they go ape-shit for it. The funny part, however, is that our cat has a mixed reaction. When he first eats the nip, he gets stupid fucking hyper. He will run all over the fucking house, trying to get more. You can tell when the mellow hits, because suddenly he just stops. Next thing you know, his pupils are dilated like a motherfucker and he can't tell distance to save his life. The best was when he tried to jump on the couch and missed. You could tell he was trying hard, but his little legs just didn't want to work. One small thud later, and the cat is sprawled out on the floor, sleeping.

In giving the cat his dope, however, I have learned that it is also getting my wife her own high. There was a study released last year, which indicated that watching cat videos stimulates the same part of the brain that drugs can. Evidently, when our cat gets fucked up off the green, my wife gets fucked up from the cat. In fact, she finds him so adorable that the "cuteness" almost turns to rage. And before you ask, yes this is a thing. Evidently the brain chemistry that recognizes something as cute or adorable is closely related to the brain chemistry that registers rage or violence. This is why people talk about wanting to eat children, and why people secretly love to see a little kid in a parka get pushed into a snow bank. For my wife, she gets high on hugging, cuddling, and kicking the cat.

So what does this mean? It means that I have two drug addicts in the house. Only one is taking a legitimate drug, relative to the species. It also means that I am witnessing our house turn into an episode of Breaking Bad. The other night, the cat came up to my wife and started mewing. My wife asked what he wanted, and he kept pawing. When she went to get the bag of catnip, the cat jumped half-way across the room to get to it and meowed louder. I don't know why, but I suddenly got the image of our cat turning into a gangsta. When my wife asked what he wanted, I imagined the cat saying, "You know what I want!! Nip me, bitch! NIP ME!!" One pinch of nip later, and his drugged-out, happy-ass self is back in the middle of the floor, asleep. My wife's drugged-out, happy-ass self is stretched out on the couch, asleep. And my sober-ass self is in the other room, fixing my meals for the next day.

Moral of the Story: Our cat needs to go to rehab, and I'm eating turkey for lunch.