It Just Isn't My Patoot

Cleanin' up just isn't my patoot, Big People!

Hiya, Big People!  So!  How's it going?

You know, if ya follow me, you know I am very specific about setting up my boundaries, personally, professionally, and literally.  Sometimes these literal boundaries involve makin' a defensive wall with the toys in my play room, and as it turns out, Mommy and Daddy have boundary issues, quite literally, with my literal boundaries.

See, they don't see the beauty in a Wall of Toys as a defensive structure.  In fact, they see my defensive walls of toys as nothing more than a "mess."  And they very strongly suggest- and I really mean COMMAND- for me to "clean up my mess!"

Well, ya know what?  Cleanin' up my defensive wall of toys just isn't my patoot, and I tell 'em so.  Sometimes I hafta tell 'em it isn't my patoot, even while they're forcing me to dismantle my brilliantly genius defensive structures.   They just laugh and laugh.  It makes me really mad, but Mommy says it isn't because they're makin' me take down my defensive toy wall structures.  She says it's because I say doing so isn't my patoot.

I'm not sure why this strikes her as so funny.  I really don't.  She says I don't know what patoot means.  I say I most certainly do, that patoot means thing I wanna do, or responsibility.  Somewheres in that ballpark.  It's a subtly nuanced word in my vocabulary.  Mommy says patoot is another word for "butt."  I reject this definition.

So there you have it, Friends.  Dismantling my toy wall defensive structures is not my patoot, and also neither is my patoot conforming to the conventional definitions of words I happen to really like the sounds of, but not the conventional meanings thereof.  If that makes any sense. 

Explaining in further detail is also not my patoot.  But you know, I love ya just the same, Big People.  And I'll see ya tomorrow.  That IS my patoot!

Muah!