“You should write a blog about this.” My daughter looks up at me from where she squats down by the litter box, sweeping up the scattered sand from a very enthusiastic digger.
“What? About litter?” I laugh at the suggestion.
“Yeah, there’s gotta be something there. How one kitten seems to take more joy in the digging than actually going to the bathroom, while another seems almost ashamed of himself, if he catches your eye.”
“I think you’re reaching,” I tell her, although I get what she’s saying.
I remember back to a time, several years ago, when I told my husband about a silly ephemeral idea for a story tickling the back of my brain. It was something I would title: The 10 Things I Learned While Cleaning the Litterbox. One of which was going to be that I tend to stick out my tongue when I concentrate and another being that I concentrate too much for the simple act of cleaning a litter box.
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That idea went the way of many throughout the years. A writer’s mind is filled with random tidbits of small jokes, one-liners, and what-if scenarios. The process of stringing these disjointed ideas together, into a coherent and entertaining message, is the true crucible.
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But, in the end, I suppose I took my daughter’s advise and wrote about cat litter.
Rebecca Lamprey 