So my mother had a bunch of her students over. She's an adjust instructor at her alma mater, it's the end of the term, they had nothing to talk about except the course evaluations and turning over a big project, so why not make a little field trip and potluck party of it? I was pulled into service, partly to clean stuff up beforehand, partly to provide small talk about life in Singapore and what I'm doing with the book and where I went to grad school. You know, like I do here.
One of her students watched one of the cats -- the one who's not so afraid of strangers that she runs into the closet door (she hasn't connected the door being open to being able to enter the closet) -- as she (the modestly sociable cat) walked past. ``Oh, she's such a pretty cat!''
``Yes, she is ... my sister found her as a stray kitten something like ten years ago now.''
``Yeah, and she's had kittens.''
I'm often out of the loop, but I'm rather sure if my mother's dear cat had kittens I'd have heard. Particularly as all of her vaguely suspicious organs were removed at maturity, I'd certainly have heard about kittens. But all I said was, ``No, I don't believe that she has.''
``Oh, sure she has. You see how her uterus is stretched out?''
I don't know what's wrong with me; I can't think of anything to say when asked my opinion on a cat's uterus.
Trivia: Leopold Kronecker (1823-1891), one of the greatest mathematicians of all time, refused to accept the existence of irrational numbers. Source: The Mystery of the Aleph, Amir D. Aczel.
Currently Reading: Sea of Glory, Nathaniel Philbrick.