Yesterday I was doing my weekly sweep and mop of the bathroom (I sweep daily by the by). I had just finished moving the litter boxes and trash can out to the hall when Lazarus came running in, hell bent for leather.
Now Lazarus is known as stumpy around here. He's got stubby little legs, a stubby little tail and a smooshed in face.
Any way, so Laz-cat comes streaking into the bathroom and leaps into the tub, using the shower runner for the leverage to get in. He then ran down the tub, jumped up and batted at the tap.
Then he came running back up and onto the side to get out. He failed miserably, sliding down the side of the tub. He sat down and looked perplexed.
"Mew?" he said looking at me. I grinned in response. He got up, ran back down the tub, leaped up and batted the tap. Then he came running back up the side and slid down again. Landing unceremoniously on his belly, legs splayed to the sides.
That did it for me, I lost it and collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles. Laz-cat stood up "Maiow!" he said indignantly.
This went on for about 15 minutes with Laz-cat running down the tub and batting at the tap, then coming back and sliding down the side. By this time the rest of the boys had come in to see the commotion.
Aristotle leapt into the tub and looked at Laz-cat "Merow." He said.
"Mew" Lazarus replied. Aristotle then picked him up by the scruff and stood on the side of the tub, dropping Laz-cat on the floor and leaping out of the tub.
"Maiow!" they said to me in unison and walked out, tails in the air.