random thoughts – Day 1,451 – (Thursday) – ladylike

Mummu was always very concerned about women being “ladies.” More precisely, she was very invested in the idea that *I* would become a lady and behave in a ladylike manner. Certain public figures were “real ladies.” Grace Kelly. Audrey Hepburn. Jacqueline Kennedy. Laura Bush. All bona fide ladies in Mummu's book.

Growing up, there was guidance concerning ladylike aspects that could be cultivated and controlled. I was blessed with guidance including, “A lady sits with her knees together and ankles crossed.” “A lady says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.” “A lady chews with her mouth closed and covers her mouth when she sneezes or coughs.” “A lady doesn't call a man.” And so on. Basically, under many of her guidelines, a lady behaves like a decent human, but that whole not calling guys nonsense really clipped my wings for an unnecessarily long time.

There was also commentary about ladylike things beyond a person’s control. My favorite was, “A lady has curved fingernails. Not flat.” She was glad that I had curved nails and a long-ish neck, as if those physical traits would ensure my enshrinement in proper ladyhood. 

We probably all know by now that in my adult reality, my ladylike curved nails will never be sufficient to offset my shockingly unladylike potty mouth and jumping in when others are speaking because sometimes I get excited and/or afraid I'll forget what I was going to say in response to the speaker's often brilliant comment.

I am probably a far cry from the lady that Mummu tried to cultivate me to be. Too many years of living alone, compounded by the curtailment of social situations during the pandemic, have led to me being just a few degrees away from feral. 

Kiki, however, is taking up the slack at The BungaLowell regarding ladylike manners and deportment. In close to three full weeks of cohabitation, I still have not seen her eat, although the daily diminishment of food in the bowl suggests that she does. Only once have I seen her near the water bowl and when I looked directly at her, she froze and looked at me. I have never seen her drink, but the daily reduction in water level indicates she does consume water.

There have been regular deposits made in the litter box but I’ve never seen her in it, and I’m glad to be spared witnessing the pottying routine. Kiki always looks neat and clean, but I’ve also not seen her grooming process in progress. Just like a lady, she keeps certain things private.

When Kiki is relaxing on a step or on the living room chair, her paws are neatly tucked in front of her or under her chin and her tail is coiled around her in a tidy and compact arrangement of limbs and appendages. She is usually quiet, except for in the early morning hours (usually 3:00 a.m.) when she practices her oration and elocution skills. I’ve never seen her yawn, but if she does have to do so in view of another, I’m quite certain she will cover her mouth daintily with a paw. She usually treads softly, though she is sometimes less light of foot when dashing down the stairs because I had the audacity to come up.

Mummu loved the idea of most ladylike ladies, but she hated cats. She said they were sneaky. Mummu’s neighbor had a cat that would sit on the bench on the porch to her apartment on Rollstone Street and watch her through the bedroom window. It made Mummu nuts and she would move around in her apartment, sputtering about the evil cat that kept staring at her. I’m pretty sure the cat knew the effect it had. Despite her known disdain for the feline species, I like to think that Mummu would have felt differently about Kiki, with her highly prized refined manners, grace, and being such a lady and all.