Pussy galore

Sprog 2 asked me last week: “Why are the cat pictures on the back of my undies instead of the front?”

My brow creased. I pondered. And I had this sudden revelation. Ahhhhhh, that’s why they didn’t put the cute kitties on the front of the six-year-old’s underpants … But what do I tell Sprog 2?

I made up some shite about it being cooler to have on the back, and she was satisfied.

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about this whole pussy business.

Why is pussy a term for female genitalia? How did that happen?

I did a bit of internet trawling and discovered there’s conjecture over its origin. Some say it derives from Old Norse puss “pocket, pouch”, others reckon it comes from the Low German word “puse” (pronounced “puss ee”) meaning “vulva”, and therefore spread to the United States with a wave of Germanic immigrants to Wisconsin in the early 1800s.

Others offer more tactile explanations: “I think because it is furry and comforting”.

One of the most entertaining snippets I stumbled upon was about The Barrison Sisters, a risque vaudeville act that performed in the United States and Europe from about 1891 to 1900. The sisters were billed as “The Wickedest Girls in the World”.

According to Wikipedia: “In their most famous act, the sisters would dance, raising their skirts slightly above their knees, and ask the audience, “Would you like to see my pussy?” When they had coaxed the audience into an enthusiastic response, they would raise up their skirts, revealing that each sister was wearing underwear of their own manufacture that had a live kitten secured over the crotch.” (See entertaining pic above.)

The Barrison Sisters sound cool. (Just as long as there wasn’t some Joe Jackson daddy figure off-stage, beating them into submission.)

There’s been lots of pussy-related action in the Household in the past week. Not only has Sprog 2 noted the odd placement of the kitties on her undies, but a cat has gone missing in the neighbourhood. A woman knocked on our front door and asked if we’d seen a lost cat. She explained that she’s been charged with minding it for her mother while she was overseas, but it had gone AWOL.

No, we hadn’t seen it. A few days afterwards, little posters started appearing around the place, offering a reward for the return of the lost kitty. A few days after that, even larger posters started appearing, with the word REWARD in even bigger letters. Obviously mum is returning soon and daughter is getting anxious. Not a conversation you’d relish at the airport. Kinda takes the edge off the happy reunion.

In other feline news, I asked Sprog 2 what she wanted for Christmas. Because that’s the kind of nutjob I am, discussing Christmas wish lists in August. And Spog 2 said she wanted a soft toy. Naturally. Even though she already has 100 soft toys. In particular she wanted a cat. So I examined around 500 soft toy cats on the internet and chose this one – called Maynard – from the same warehouse I bought the Sprogs Easter squishy things, a California mob called All Plush. I thought I might as well strike while the latest redraw on the mortgage was hot.

Maynard is winging his way to Australia as I type. I hope. It was quite an expensive purchase, because once I realised how much the postage was going to cost, I thought I might as well make it worth my while and put a soft toy owl, two bush babies, a chihuahua in a leopard-print handbag, two bichon frises and “Fiesty” the Jack Russell in my shopping cart too … I’m sure they’ll come in handy for something or someone.

And that was my week, filled with all things pussy-related.

P.S  Just in case you were curious, pussycat originates from the Romans calling lions “Panthera Leo Persica” or “Purrsicass” apparently … I’ll get off Wikipedia now …