u/Important-Wallaby798

It is 1:30 in the morning.

I have just returned from a successful hunting expedition. Spring turkey season is happening here in Oregon, and let me tell you something — if a turkey literally fell dead into Dad’s lap, that man would still somehow come home empty handed. The coyotes at my grandparents house contribute more to this household than he does.

Naturally, after carrying this family on my tiny striped shoulders, I try to bee-line for the bedroom to begin my sacred nighttime self-care routine. Bath. Reflection. Licking my own butt in peace. The usual.

Then Mom starts in with her “Oh come here my sweet babyyyyy,” while absolutely demolishing what appears to be HALF a family-size pack of Oreos she supposedly bought “for camping.”

Mom. You ARE the wildlife.

I ignore her, because I have standards, and head directly for my king-size oasis — MY BED. MY PILLOW. MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET.

I am MID-LICK when this woman has the audacity to climb into MY SPOT and place her Oreo-scented head directly onto MY PILLOW like she pays rent here.

I give her my strongest “what the fuck do you think you’re doing”

stare.

Does she listen?

No.

Because my humans have the survival instincts of a decorative gourd.

AND THEN — as if things could not get any worse— Dad walks in carrying my enormous black void brother like they’re starring in some family sitcom.

This 'fat Batman'-looking idiot is purring, making biscuits, acting like we’re the Brady Bunch in this bitch while I’m actively trying to process this home invasion.

Now they are ALL in MY BED.

Dad’s snoring.

Mom smells like Oreos and regret.

The void is spread across half the mattress like a freshly beached orca.

And I am currently sitting in the doorway contemplating whether it’s too late to become feral.

​

I (2M, tabby, athlete) was watching Cat TV with Mom while she showered. First of all, let me just say the bird episode was INCREDIBLE. Peak television. However, Mom made the reckless decision to leave her phone sitting near the toilet while I was in a highly stimulated hunting state.

I noticed the phone was dangerously close to the edge. Naturally, I tested gravity with one gentle bap.

Unfortunately, the "$1,000" phone landed directly in the toilet.

Mom immediately started yelling my full government name while I fled at top speed because honestly the bish turned hostile very quickly.

But APPARENTLY that's not why Dad is mad.

Earlier in the morning, around 5 AM, I had generously brought home a mouse and thoughtfully processed it into smaller, more manageable pieces on the kitchen floor. Dad then stepped directly into the mouse guts barefoot while half asleep and made a noise that sounded like a coyote being tasered.

Now both parents are saying that I’m a “menace to society,” “feral,” and “the reason they can’t have nice things.” Mom also says my new pronouns are "May/Hem" whatever that shiz means.

Meanwhile, I feel like nobody is acknowledging:

- I am literally providing free pest control.

- I shared my food instead of eating selfishly alone.

- The phone should not have been so throwable.

- Mom was already watching water fall from the ceiling for fun, so clearly we were BOTH enjoying enrichment activities.

- Dad’s lack of situational awareness regarding pre-dawn organ piles is frankly not my responsibility.

Also, if humans care SO much about phones, why don’t they bury them like normal valuables?

AITA?