“I should write this stuff down.” I said, flicking through the shirts on the clearance rack, most of which I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.
The top of her head appeared over a circular stand of other discounted items a few feet away. “What should you write down?” She asked, before wandering in my direction.
“This. Us.” I answered, partially pulling a hideous orange plaid sundress out to check the size and hastily hiding it when I saw it would fit her. “People always seem to find us so entertaining.”
“Really?” She materialized at my elbow and went straight for the orange plaid. “Oh, hey–” she pulled the hanger free and wrestled the fabric from the tight wodge of other items crammed on the stand.
“Yeah.” I answered, turning away and resigning myself to seeing that sundress on a regular basis. “I can’t make this stuff up, you know.”
“This would go great with those shorts I saw over there.” She remarked, holding the dress against herself.
I continued to search the clearance clothes, and asked, “Which?”
“You know.” She was moving away from me. “The blue ones with white polka dots.”
I looked toward the high ceiling of the store, nodding my head with a silent ‘of course.’
“I heard that.” She said, a disembodied voice from behind a stand of denim a few rows away.
“I didn’t say anything.” I stifled a laugh.
Her head appeared around the stand. “Don’t you look at me with that tone of voice.” And she just as swiftly disappeared.
“See what I mean? I can’t make this shit up.” I called at her.
“What would you title this book?”
” Probably that–‘I Can’t Make This Shit Up: The Cat and Cat Dialogues.”
“Well, as long as you don’t make fun of my wardrobe–what am I saying?” She drifted towards me. “I don’t care.”
“Good.” I laughed. “Good.”