Ahh, ‘Swif­fer With Legs’ ... here’s to what could have been

Kingston Whig-Standard - - NEWS - BEN MCLEAN Ben McLean is a hus­band, a fa­ther, and won’t be adding any more pint-sized hu­mans to the house ei­ther, thank you very much. He can be heard week­day morn­ings on 98.9 The Drive and reached at ben­m­clean­col­[email protected]

Dear Never-To-Ex­ist Chil­dren Of My Cat,

This week, our fam­ily cat, Pom Pom, un­der­went a sur­gi­cal pro­ce­dure to make sure you never ar­rive and I feel like I owe you two things.

First, an apol­ogy. It’s noth­ing against you – who doesn’t love kit­tens?! – but Bob Barker has been adamant that we get our pets spayed or neutered, and no­body wants to cross that guy af­ter the five-knuckle buf­fet he fed Adam San­dler in “Happy Gil­more.”

Se­condly, I wanted to take a mo­ment and tell you about Pom Pom and the kind of fa­ther he would’ve been to you.

It’s a shame you won’t get to

know him be­cause your would-be fa­ther has a wide va­ri­ety of in­ter­ests, from avi­a­tion (see: knock­ing crap off high shelves), travel (see:

at­tempt­ing to weasel out the front door ev­ery time it opens) and lo­cal cui­sine (see: at­tempt­ing to eat elas­tic bands like an id­iot).

As far as be­ing a provider, if what he hunts and kills each day is any in­di­ca­tion, your fa­ther would have kept you alive on a steady diet of tin­foil balls, loose threads and ev­ery ounce of my hu­man pa­tience.

He’d have been the cool dad who would’ve stayed up all night to party with you, es­pe­cially if your idea of a party is “shout­ing re­peat­edly at a closed bed­room door” or “closely mon­i­tor­ing the shadow of a bug that’s on the ceil­ing.”

That’s not to say your life would’ve been with­out chal­lenges. Your name, for ex­am­ple, would’ve been picked by our seven-yearold daugh­ter and, as Pom Pom sug­gests, she gen­er­ally bases it on what she thinks you look like. You’d have spent your days roam­ing the house with a col­lar em­bla­zoned with the words “Swif­fer With Legs,” “Simba Ex­cept Not” or “Aunt Diane’s Scarf.”

Mind you, your en­tire ex­is­tence

is based on the de­bat­able idea that Pom Pom would’ve been able to find a nice fe­male kitty to set­tle down with. A tough sell when the guy’s idea of flirt­ing is stand­ing on your chest, turn­ing around in cir­cles 35 times and im­me­di­ately leav­ing the room. While I can’t say I’ve tried it my­self, my as­sump­tion is that girls HATE that.

I’m sorry things didn’t work out dif­fer­ently and that we didn’t get the chance to meet you, but it’s of­fi­cially not an op­tion. Our kitty Pom Pom has said so long to fa­ther­hood.

Speak­ing of which, let’s move on to the apol­ogy I owe my wal­let this week ...

Ben McLean’s fam­ily cat, Pom Pom.

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