The other morning I went out into the kitchen to get a bowl of frosted flakes, of course whenever I am heading in the direction of said kitchen Jedi will follow (or sometimes even pass me) to make sure that I know he is there and alive just in case the mood would strike me to give him some kind of tasty goodie. After getting my bowl of frosted goodness, I retired back into the bedroom to watch a little boob tube and eat my cereal. Of course no meal is complete without the orange furball of orneriness jumping up on the bed to nosey around a little.
This is the interchange that we had.
Jedi: Meow
Me: You will not eat frosted flakes, Jedi.
Jedi: Meow.
Me: You won’t eat it.
Jedi: Meoooow.
Me: Jedi, I am not lying to you. You know damn well you will not eat frosted flakes!
Jedi: Meooooow.
Me: No you won’t! If you would I would give you a piece.
Jedi: Meoooooooow.
Me: Yes I would!
Jedi: Meoooooow.
Me: You won’t eat it so I’m not wasting a piece.
Jedi: Meooooow.
Me: No!
Jedi: Meoooow.
Me: I said no!
Jedi: Meow Meow Meow.
Me: No! No! NO!
Jedi: Meoooooooow!
Me: (putting a piece of frosted flakes on the bed) Fine. There you go.
Jedi looks at it, taps it with his paw and then sniffs it. He proceeds to give me a look like I am a r-tard and jumps off the bed without even touching it (not counting the little tap he gave it with his paw).
Even when I know I am right, why do I always give into him and his kitty cuteness?