Shelley: Open the door.
Me: No, it’s raining.
Shelley: Open the door.
Me: Look, it’s wet out there. You don’t like getting wet.
Shelley: Open the door NOW.
Me: Fine then. (Opens door to top deck. It’s really drizzling, not fully raining.)
Shelley stalks out with another nasty look at me for being so slow, then stops. She looks incredulously up at the sky. She picks up her front paws and tries to shake the water off them.
Shelley: You left the water on! Make it stop!
Me: I didn’t do it. I told you it was raining.
Shelley: Dry it NOW!
Now she’s sitting in the open doorway, not wanting me to close it but not willing to get wet. And fussing. Loudly. At me.
Oh—Monday was officially her 14th birthday.
