The Beast at Home

THE BEAST

I threw my hands up in frustration.  I knocked over a pencil holder, which sent pens flying every which way.  Naturally, this didn't help my anger.  At all. 

“Why aren’t you doing as I told you?  What is wrong with you?  I’ve put everything I am into you and you do nothing but balk at me, time after time?  I’ve just about had it with you!”  My cat looked up at me as if I'd lost my mind for sure this time.  Maybe I had.

I pushed myself away from the table, tipping over my chair and stomped away.  I just about tripped over the cat, who arched himself up and sauntered away in search of food. 

I’d been at this project all day and he just sat there like a damn machine, not saying a word.  I grabbed a mug from the kitchen cabinet and poured myself a cup of coffee.  I took a few deep breaths before turning to face The Beast, as I liked to call him when things got heated up like this.  I sipped my hot drink and stared at him.  He just blinked at me, waiting.  After waiting a moment or two and knowing I had calmed down, I was ready to tackle the task at hand once more.

“Okay.  I'm ready.  We can try this again.”

I put my coffee mug in the kitchen sink and walked slowly back to the table, calmer than when I left.

“But if you crash and burn one more time, you can go stay with my nephew and play games with him all day long.  I have work to do and don’t have time for your shenanigans.”

Stupid computers.