Tucker status: Day 2.

This morning, Kristen and I woke up to find Tucker asleep on her stack of magazines next to her dresser. He followed us into the bathroom and prowled around while she readied herself for school. When Kristen left, I made my usual cranberry tea and got on my laptop. Little did I know he would crawl onto my keyboard and tip the screen back so it knocked into my glass, sending it to the floor in a red splash. Juice stained the bottoms of my curtains and faux carpet. I spent a good 15 minutes cleaning up the floor and scrubbing the curtains till finally I made a phone call asking for new curtains. Ah, well. It was a complete accident.
I had a Career Development appointment today between 2 and 4 with Brian, a tall, Asian man who gives the impression of having gone to Harvard or Yale. I started to feel sleepy around 1 and Tucker was already asleep in my lap. So I laid on my side in bed, Tucker next to me, and napped till 2:30 before getting ready and leaving at 3. That was when I learned Tucker could sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position (hence the picture of him in Kristen's lap). Totally cute.
When I sat down with Brian at his office, I said, "I got a kitten yesterday. He's white. His name's Tucker." Brian nodded. "I like kittens," he stated, "but kittens tend to not stay that way and after that, I'm not a cat person." Fair enough.
I returned a little after 4 with a classmate I hadn't seen in a while and bumped into at the elevators. He asked what I'd been up to so, naturally, "I got a kitten yesterday." Oh, let's see it, was his response. So once again, I brought another hopeful to the apartment, because who doesn't want to hold a 3-pound fuzz ball that purrs constantly? Tucker met yet another human, but non will compare to his new kitty friend, Mason, when we bring him home tomorrow.
Every once in a while, Kristen will rush in and scoop him up and then squeal about wanting her kitty. Then Tucker will scamper away from her and she'll squeal about him hating her when really he's just hyper. He whines when he wants to get on the kitchen counter and crawl around. He whines when he's by himself in the bathroom. He whines when he's purring on my lap, and he whines when he's standing around wondering where I am and I say, "Baby," or "Tucker" and he finds me.