Grumpy

Two versions of Grumpy Cat belong to Sean. It's miserable.

The news of the passing of the internet sensation nicknamed "Grumpy Cat" grabbed me.

Sure, I appreciated the laugh-out-loud banality of the memes and greeting cards and merchandise.

But I knew Sean would be sad. That's where it hit me.

I texted him as soon as I read the news.

"You're kidding," he texted back.

I took his stuffed animal down from the shelf in his room, and the small one that hangs on his wall and left them up against his pillow.

"Are you trying to make me sad?" he asked.

He laughed after that.

Still, it was sweet to see him holding on to one of the things from his youth.

We watch our kids grow up and often lose their sense of youth. The snuggly Sean is long gone. The days of "kisses, tickles, and hugs" every night has been replaced by often not even saying goodnight.

There was a time where he would have wanted me to wake him when I got home. No more, and that's OK. Time moves on and it's healthy.

So to see him care about a seven-year-old cat with feline dwarfism whose real name was Tardar Sauce was truly sweet.

But I knew he would. Sean, you see, loves cats. He loved Fred, the cat I had when he was born, and is now crazy about Chico, the adult cat who joined us a few years ago.

So, of course, he would connect with Grumpy Cat.

Thus the passing of the Grump was a bummer.

It's another piece of our past.