Copycat

I've heard the word copycat more times this weekend than I ever have in my life.
I saw two cats aimlessly roaming the street yesterday
&
I had a dream about one of those old time, monster copy machines last night.
It was my job to fix it.
And fix it I did.

weird.

So now, I'm wondering what's up with that ?
Am I suppose to copy something ?
Fix something ?
Feed the cat ?
Who's cat ?

hmmmm.

I remember irritatingly uttering  "stop copying me !" multiple times during my youth.
Which would almost always open the door to immediate imitation by my mimic.

No
"No"

Seriously.
"Seriously"

Stop.
"Stop"

Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ! Tell him to stop copying me !
"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaa ! Tell him to stop copying me !"

& then, in my teens, twenties and even thirties I became the one doing the copying.
The latest trends.
Bandwagons.
Hairstyles.

(although, I must say, I did look pretty awesome with that Barbra Streisand 'A Star Is Born" fro ...)

But, along with age came wonderful knowledge and lovely acceptance.
Acceptance of me.
By me.

& although it's said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery
I kind of enjoy this thing called my way.

YaY.

Copy me ?
Copy you ?
Copy that, cat.

:) 

I Am My Feelings