Are Kids Like Cats?

You've probably heard people say that cats always gravitate toward people who actually don't like cats.  It's true.  My almost sister-in-law doesn't like cats.  She says, and I quote, "They freak me out.  They want to steal my essence."  She may have some deep-rooted childhood traumatic story about a creepy cat who bit her or something, but I think it's an excuse so she doesn't have to check on my cats when I'm out of town (just kidding T).

She was hanging out at my house one day last week, and my Siamese cat, Kwinn, descended upon her immediately.  It's a fact!  She let out an almost inaudible gasp each time he got near her, like the wind had been knocked out of her (or the cat was stealing her breath).  I would call him over (and he always comes when he is called because he is a mama's boy), and would come sit with me, but he would continue to stare at her, like he was plotting something devious.

This started me down one of those "deep-thinking" paths I take that make almost no sense to everyone except myself, so I only share this stuff in my blog because almost no one reads it anyway!  OK, so I'm thinking that maybe kids are like cats?  I don’t have kids and most people would swear that is a good thing because I’m pretty sure I don't have even one maternal bone in my body.  I'm 40 now, so if I don’t have at least one maternal bone in my body, I probably never will.  I’ve told friends that I’m like a hamster:  I would probably eat my own babies.  The first time it cries, that’s it, eat it and no more noise.  I joke of course (well, maybe).  So, why is it that kids seem to like me, or at least find me so interesting?  I’ve had kids come up to me for no reason and hold out their hands or walk over and smile and say, “Hi.”  I've even had kids on planes who want to touch my hair or my face.  It's weird.

Kids of all ages seem to do this.  Even two weeks ago, while on my daily run to the lake, a school bus let some grade school children off at the stop near my house, and a young girl with long brown hair and braces, probably about 12 or 13, smiled a huge smile at me and said, “Hello.”  That isn't the first time she has done this.  It's just the first time I thought about it.  I politely smile back and say hello.  She seems like a very sweet girl and I try to be nice, but in the back of my mind, I'm wondering what she wants from me!

I was in a restaurant a few months ago, when I first moved back to the Raleigh-Durham area, and a little girl in front of me, probably around 3 or so, wanted to play peek-a-boo with me.  I wasn't interested, so I went back to listening to my cell phone voice mail.  OK, all of you mothers out there, don't hate me.  It's not that I was being mean, I just don't know how to relate to children.  I don't.  My brother and sister don't have kids (and probably won't...and shouldn't), so I don't even have nieces or nephews to deal with, which makes me clueless when it comes to kids.  I know they slobber, they scream, and they need constant attention.  That's all I know.  They make me very uncomfortable.  They are like spooky tiny little people.  It's like they know I don't like them, so, like cats, they must come and find out why.  I think they want to steal my essence!

--Fortuitous Observer