Why Cat’s are Glorified Invisible Friends
Growing up, I had the best friend any little boy could ask for. His name was Wesley, and he was awesome. Wesley and I were inseparable. When I would play Nintendo, Wesley was there. When I would play Sega, Wesley was there. When I would play Gameboy, Wesley was there. I’m not sure if it’s because I was so great or because he was such a good friend, but I would always win. It didn’t matter what the game was, he always seemed to come up short in the end. See, when I lose, I’m a really poor sport. I tend to flip the monopoly board, accuse the other person of cheating, deal a passive aggressive insult, and storm away. Not Wesley. Usually after losing, he would go out of his way to compliment me, even if it wasn’t relevant to the situation. “Good job winning in basketball, you’re really handsome”, “It’s hard to beat you in Donkey Kong because you’re a genius” or, “Oh man, you beat me in a dead sprint up the stairs again, you should be president.” Wesley and I were total BFFs.