#tomcat rants

[tomcat-tapes]

@dcthots

Now that I have a break in college I’ve been eyeballing Pup Fiction again and then came to a very sudden realization…

I don’t have a fucking clue on how Conner or Damian would get along or what their relationship as the Bio Bat Kids would look like.

Not that Bruce would *have* a favorite but Conner was his baby for the longest time

And now here is this eight year old at his doorstep also his bio kid. And like Damian’s whole purpose was that he was the Heir of the Batman and then finding out suddenly that he’s not had to be a gut punch to him- he’s intense but like he’s still a kid.

And then there’s Conner who’s been the youngest for years and is quite used to being the baby/center of his Dads’ worlds but now he has two younger siblings (Hi Jonathan but I think they would get along just fine it’s Damian that’s a problem) not to mention a kid that’s prickly as hell and frankly impossible to get along with. Conner is very baffled on Alfred and Dick’s patience for him, but mildly jealous of the brotherly bond Damian and Jason already posses.

Then ofc there’s Bruce who’s trying his best to connect to this murderous and intensely proper child he can’t just smother him with love and adoration like he did Conner. Especially cause he feels mildly violated and pretty mad that he never knew he had another son. He still treats Conner like his baby after all he raised him- watched him take his first steps, say his first words, etc etc. but he doesn’t have that Damian so he’s left fumbling with what to do or how to treat him. He doesn’t act the same way Conner did when he was 8 so thats not very helpful.

I’m unsure of how to bridge the gap and create their bond it’s rocky I’m sure but I want something there. And I’m in need of a fellow nerdy mind for an outer perspective

[calicotomcat]

Honestly no I really think that’s such a good response to the bullshit cishet men pull about home care and how they just don’t understand things like how to maintain or work within an already organized system-

“You are literally hardwired for pattern recognition. There is a pattern here. Recognize it.”

I think that’s actually a decent response.

Because if you can’t tell which of the already neatly organized sections of the silverware drawer is for spoons, if you can’t tell which part of the tidily structured cabinet is for the pans, if you can’t figure out the one place where the fucking cutting boards belong after decades in this house, that’s your own fucking problem, not mine.

If you look at the gap in the knife block where the bread knife goes, and you have the bread knife in your hand, do the fucking math yourself. Don’t ask me to calculate it for you.

You’re a goddamn adult, act like it.

[calicotomcat]

A thought came to me as I was cleaning up the mess from this morning after it became clear nobody else was going to do it.

Because now that my brother is back home, the amount of shit I’m going to have to clean up in parts of the house like the kitchen and bathroom just doubled. My dad and brother aren’t exactly what I’d call great about cleaning up after themselves (my brother shaved his head in the bathroom once and just left a fuckton of hair coating the sink, didn’t even rinse it) and I loathe cleaning up after them both.

I mean just today they left out the coffee creamer in the sun on the counter all morning, the lid wasn’t even closed, it was room temperature when I put it away, and there was a pack of unopened bacon sitting forgotten on the stove just as tepid as the creamer. Dirty spoons were left on the counter and none of the multiple mugs because I guess each cup of coffee deserves it’s own fucking mug had even been rinsed let alone put in the dishwasher.

I only noticed any of this shit because I just now grabbed some tea at eleven so I could have something while I did homework even though I know for a fact they were up at seven. This shit may come across as petty but it’s only one part of many and it’s clearly going to become a regular thing.

I loathe doing other people’s laundry. I hate cleaning up after people when they leave the kitchen a fucking mess after cooking. My dad will sooner just burn food straight onto the stovetop than wipe it down before or after cooking. 

And now I have to deal with an extra person just as crap about basic home maintenance and etiquette who will do things like just put silverware and pots and pans and dishes wherever with no regard to the fact there is a very obvious system of organization that’s been in use for literal years. This bullshit is very clearly just apathy regarding everything in the domestic sphere and despite what they seem to think I am not a cleaning fairy. I know from experience that just not cleaning up after them doesn’t fucking work, shit just gets worse, but oh I hate this. My only option now is being a snarky asshole whenever I can so I will be the snarkiest fucking asshole I can be.

So now the next time someone can’t figure out something like where the silverware goes in the silverware drawer, despite the glaringly obvious, I have only this thought that came to me when I was putting away the dishes today;

“You are a primate, a human being, you are literally hardwired for pattern recognition. There is a pattern here. Recognize it.”

Having a place of my own where the only person whose mess I have to handle is mine is such a fucking dream.

[calicotomcat]

I swear to god I just want to complain for five fucking minutes about how much I hate this awful diet I’m forced to be on and how much I miss certain foods and now I’m getting a fucking health lecture from someone with the metabolism of a hummingbird who actually enjoys exercise and is trying to get me to cheat on the diet- if I do that I get to start from square fucking one again, asshole, my metabolism will not react well. Just let me bitch for five minutes without giving me shit, let me be angry and miserable for five fucking minutes, stop telling me shit I already know and let me talk for once in my fucking life without talking over me like I’ve simply never heard of moderation or exercise

please just, fuck