In a heart shaped box a mother keeps her children’s teeth. As she looks at them now she can’t believe how these tiny teeth used to be in their tiny mouthes. How their tiny hands used to hold hers walking down the street. How their tiny little heads would bob as they used to sit impatiently as she’d brush their hair. How their tiny little feet would jump and run whenever she got home yelling “mommy mommy”. She would give anything to go back to those days. Now young adults her daughters were not so tiny. One was off at college the other had just gotten married earlier this year. An empty nester, emphasis on the empty. It’s crazy how she spent so much time stressing and rushing and wishing for a moment of peace, and now that she had it she just wanted to be sneaking into their rooms at the crack of dawn to sneak these tiny teeth from under their pillows and replacing it with a couple dollars.

Everyday felt the same now, wake up, shower, coffee, work Monday- Thursday , home, dinner, wine, book, bed. Her job was pretty much done, her daughters were self sufficient and taking on the world. She should be proud, it wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. She closes heart shaped box and places it back in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. Picks up her book and reads until her eyes grow tired then turns over and hits the light. Still she lies awake thinking; remembering. Her reminiscence is disrupted by rustling sound outside her window. She ignores it for a bit then starts to hear a soft mewing sound. Curious, she peeks through the blinds and can just barely see the tip of a white tail. It’s freezing out she thinks, it’s about 40 degrees out what is a cat doing outside in this type of weather. She puts on her robe and slippers and grabs a flashlight before walking through the house to the kitchen door. Once outside she can really feel the wind chill, and clasps her robe tight while taking quick little hops to the bush. Sure enough it’s a small cat, looks like someone’s pet, it’s too clean to leave outdoors. The cat starts stroking at her legs so she scoops it up and rushes back inside. In the light of her kitchen she can see better that the cat is more of a kitten, and very slight. A little too thin, and with a little cut on its ear. She grabs a laundry basket tossing the few dirty towels to the corner, and grabs a blanket from her linen closet to make it a warm bed. She places the kitten inside and it immediately burrows into the blanket. She brings the basket to her room and lays it beside her bed, and soon drifts off to sleep.

She awakes to mewing and groggily remembers finding the kitten the night before. As the first rays of sunlight start to stream through her window she thinks how grateful she is to have a task to do on this slow Sunday . Find out if this kitten has a home. After her typical shower, coffee, and milk for kitty, she drives over to her local humane society to see if she can bring the cat in to find out if it has a chip or anything to identify it. After a quick look over the kitty they determine it’s a boy, estimated to be about 6 months old, and no chip. The shelter offers to take the cat in, but she declines. Back at home she decides her best bet is to post a picture of the kitty on her neighborhood app and sees if anyone is missing him. He’s feeling playful now and bounding around the carpet over the livingroom playing with a loose string on her throw blanket that’s partially hanging off the couch. Smiling at the whimsy she takes a few pictures and posts them. Figuring he must be hungry she digs through her cabinets until she finds a can of tuna and puts some in an old Tupperware bowl for him. As she scrapes into the bowl he’s mewing at her feet and rubbing back and forth across her ankles. As soon as the bowl is placed down he devours it. She wonders if he has a home and when the last time he had a meal was. A kitten as cute as this must have a home she thinks, but can’t help that hope maybe he doesn’t. It’s nice to be needed, even if it’s just by a cat.

The afternoon passes with her reading, and watching some old rom com on tv, with the kitten curled up in her lap. She gently strokes his fur. As the day passes and she still has no response from anybody recognizing the kitten she contemplates just keeping him. This is the best Sunday she’s had in a while, and clearly if he ever had an owner they’re not caring for him properly. She finds herself smiling to herself at the thought of keeping him, something she hasn’t done in quite a while. On a whim she decides to delete the post all together, puts the kitten back in his makeshift bed, and heads for the nearest pet shop. An hour later she’s home showing her new baby boy all the things she got him, a little bed, some food and water bowls, cat foot, toys, and a little collar complete with a tag. She spent about 20 minutes contemplating a name while she picked out that tag but settled on Peeta and had it custom engraved with that name and his phone number. Peeta she tells him with a little squeeze, that will be your name.

After some cat food for Peeta and some pasta for her she heads toward bed with Peeta running alongside her curving himself between her legs. She nestles him into his little bed beside hers and lays with one arm over the edge petting him. She falls asleep this way, one arm tucked under her chin the other resting on Peeta’s back. Monday morning comes all too soon and she wakes just before her alarm to Peeta’s sweet mewing. As she gets up and showers and goes to make coffee she notices on Peeta’s bed one of his little whiskers has fallen out. She picks it up and stares at it as her curls himself around her ankle batting at the edge of her long robe. She reaches into her bottom drawer and places the little whisker on a heart shaped box where she keeps all thee daughters little baby teeth and she smiles.