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I am a Cat

The other night, as I lay restless in my bed staring at the ceiling, I began to reflect on my past and came to an exciting conclusion. I am part cat. Not only do I enjoy a good glass of milk, love chasing mice, and lounge around the house for most of the day, but I have the innate ability to fall from any height and land unharmed. I cite two specific instances for your consideration:

1. I was probably 12 or 13 years old and was out playing with my friends. We came upon a tree outside the neighborhood pool. I decided that the tree needed to be climbed. I set out to conquer said tree in the name of 12 year olds all over the world. I was at least 3/4 the way up the tree when a branch gave way under my enormous weight of about 82 pounds (I was not a large little boy). I plummeted to the grass below and landed on my feet, collapsing into a squat. I jumped up with nothing but a small scratch down my right arm. My friends all stood in awe and bowed to the glory that is I.

2. After my freshman year of college, I worked as a stock boy at Party City. Halloween was approaching and we were filling the aisles with plastic skeletons and Hot Dog costumes. I was sent to the back in search of old stock tucked in the darkest corners of the stockroom. I climbed to the top of the 16-foot ladder and reached out for the boxes we needed. I could barely reach them. I nudged the boxes closer to my grasp and just as I grabbed a hold of them, the ladder fell from beneath me with a crash. A girl screamed. The boxes fell with a deafening thud and before I realized what had happened, I found myself on top of the very boxes that caused the fall. The owner came rushing out in fear of a lawsuit and was so surprised to see me lying there with a smile on my face and not a scratch on my body that he placed a plaque on the ladder as a tribute to my splendor.

Now, I did not always have these amazing abilities, there was a time when a simple fall could mean my definite demise. As a boy living in Indonesia, I once rolled off the top bunk of my bunk bed onto a marble floor in my sleep. I broke my elbow and had two pins inserted to fix the damage. In another childhood incident, I was lying on top of the bar in our house when I fell asleep. Somehow, I rolled off of said bar and hit my head, resulting in a concussion.

I can think of two explanations for this discrepancy. First, that somehow over the years as a result of my accidents, I evolved into the cat-like superhuman that I am today. Second, that sleep is like Kryptonite to me and strips me of my feline features, leaving me vulnerable to the everyday effects of gravity. Either that, or I am still in a coma as a result from the bar top fall and none of this is real at all . . .