When you are itching with flea bites, don't complain to me.
When the cat followed us home from the donut shop (isn't it nice that we live within walking distance from a donut shop), I said it didn't belong to us. I said we didn't need another cat. I told it to go away.
You made up songs and one of you asked to feed it and the other one promised that if it came to our house it could have food.
When you fed the cat, because it did follow us all the way home, I said don't get attached and it can't come into the house.
You conspired to make sure Mean Ol' Mommy didn't "win." And one of you let it in--the big one, the grown up one. And you laughed when it sat its scrawny, goopy-eyed self on the couch like it belonged here.
So, I'm just sayin'. It takes as long as it takes to get rid of the fleas and since Frontline isn't indicated for humans, you just have to suck it up, 'cause I don't wanna hear it.
The Itchy Mean Ol Mommy