Even before I became pregnant, everyone had their worries about our big beast of a dog and how he would adjust to a baby in the house.  And I can see where they’re coming from, because Barkley is kind of a brute.  When it all boils down, however, Barkley is really just eighty pounds of black, furry, puppy-brained attitude.  Truthfully, I believe it’s his sheer size–the EIGHTY pounds part–that gives him his bad reputation.  Shall I dare say, “I think he’s ‘misunderstood’”?

Lately, though, it’s another four-legged furry brother who is causing me some concern.  A couple of weeks ago, Marc decided that it was time to put together the Pack-n-Play.  For any readers removed a generation or more from Marc and me, you might have called this a “playpen.”  Today’s “playpens” are a little more complex.  Ours, for instance, has a bassinet feature, which will actually serve as Max’s bed for the first few months (or first 15 pounds…whichever comes first).  We want to keep him in the room with us at first, and this seemed like a much better option given the fact that we planned to get a Pack-n-Play anyway.  Plus, the guy at Babies-R-Us sold us on the fact that he and his wife had their infant sleep in one until four months and loved it.  But now I’m way off-track.  Why the concern about Kelso?  Well, as Marc pieced together the appropriate parts, Kelso sat on the edge of the bed paying close attention to each move.  When it came time to attach the mobile to the side, it was all downhill from there.  Kelso’s eyes widened, he let out his “that’s mine…all mine” meow, and jumped off the bed to follow Marc over to the Pack-n-Play.  As Marc clipped the device onto the side, Kelso stretched his front paws as high as he could towards the top of the side.  Then he put all four paws on the floor and started to do his little tushy wiggle, which (for any of you who know cats) signifies an impending leap…usually into or onto someplace they really shouldn’t be.  Marc laughed…I was appalled.

A short time later, after getting myself ready for bed, I glanced over at the Pack-n-Play just in time to notice Kelso making himself cozy in the bassinet while preparing to give the dangling bears a good swat.  I quickly shooed him out, resulting in one frantic kitty trying desperately to find his way out while still maintaining his cool guy appearance.  When I turned around, Marc gave me a wide-eyed stare. 

“You made him feel bad,” he said, “when all he wanted to do was have a little fun!”

“Oh…don’t even go there,” I replied, “I don’t want cat hair all over Max’s bed!”

Within a couple of seconds, we were both laughing–mainly at Kelso’s frenzied response to my complete dismay.  He knew he was busted, and like most cats, he was going to try to find a way to make it look like it was someone else’s fault.  Since then, I’ve noticed a few more instances that make me think Kelso might be the more jealous of the two furry brothers.  Take for instance, the time that I was removing all of Max’s towels and washcloths from the bottom dresser drawer to wash them.  As I took them out, Kelso casually jumped in as though it was a new bed designated just for him.  Then there are the times I’ve opened the closet door in the nursery only to have Kelso scurry past to jump up onto the shelf beneath the clothes.  Or how about the fact that he just can’t seem to keep his paws off of the new “musical mat” toy that our friends bought for the Bean?  Each time we’re in the nursery, Kelso typically follows us in, takes his place on the polka-dot rug and looks at us adoringly as if to say, “Thanks, guys, for the awesome new bedroom.”  Boy, does he have another thing coming?