"My parents are huge cat people."

Last year, when I was in Spain, walking around with Brett, a good friend of mine, I was justifiably shocked to hear that her parents were "huge cat people." I think the conversation went something like this.

Me - Yeah, I don't know, I'm not too fond of animals. My mom sure buys a lot of dogs though, so I have to deal with them all the time anyway.

Brett - I love animals. My parents are huge cat people.

Literally I was floored. I thought that it sounded like some weird transformation that could only be possible in science fiction novels. I thought this must be some sick joke, it soon became apparent that it most definitely was not. Brett's parents are actually huge cat people.

It must be hard, especially for a human person, to grow up in a family of cats. Just the thought of the litter boxes alone makes me want to vomit, or the hair balls for that matter, and would they give you cat baths. I don't think I'd want my parents licking me clean, I like human baths, and showers and stuff. I can't imagine how sick she must be of eating mice for dinner either. I've definitely seen my parents get a little frisky after a few drinks, but luckily catnip doesn't affect human people. Sometimes my dad pees outside, on a tree or on the side of the road or something, but never on the couch or on the laundry basket. Really, I can't even imagine.

I tried to get Brett to talk more about her "huge cat" parents, but Brett wouldn't say another word, and just said I was being stupid. I really can't blame her though, I wouldn't be eager to talk about my parents either if they were huge dog people or kangaroo people or something. Sometimes when I sit around thinking about my petty problems, like wishing I had another BMW or could afford to eat lobster and steak more than only 3 times a week, I say to myself, Kevin, don't worry, it could always be a whole lot worse.