The Soft Thing

Chess: Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, I want skritches.
Me: Okay, fine. *skritch, skritch, SPARK* ...ow. *gets up and grabs dryer sheet*
Chess: *walks off*
Me: *grabs cat*
Chess: OMG, HE'S TOUCHING ME! HOLDING ME! RAPE! TAPE! NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!
Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm putting you in the blender and you're going to tell PeTA. *sits*
Chess: *bitches*
Me: *starts to rub cat with dryer sheet*
Chess: OMG, WORST THING--Wait, is that the soft thing?
Me: *pets cat with sheet*
Chess: Soft thing! I missed you! *purrs*
Me: *rubs*
Chess: *purrs* I love you, soft thing. Let me lick you.
Me: Hell, no.
Chess: Soft thing taste like num!
Me: Soft thing taste like vet bills. No.
Chess: But I'm purring! I never purr! Let me chew on the soft thing.
Me: Okay, time to focus on the tail.
Chess: But, Daddy, I want to be soft on the inside. It's what inside that counts. TV says.
Me: TV also says that I should take a pill and then go sit in a tub next to your mother.
Chess: *licks soft thing and makes creepy love to it*
Me: Okay, that's it, then. *scrunches up dryer sheet into a ball and holds it out of reach from the cat*
Chess: But I'm purring!
Me: And I'm an evil horrible asshole who doesn't want to clean up your hork.
Chess: Fine! You suck! *walks away and begins bathing herself* Stupid Daddy not letting me chew on the soft thing.
Me: Dimitri, your turn!
Dimitri: Huh, what? *purrs*