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We adopted two kittens last Easter, well to be perfectly honest, I adopted them and surprised the fam jam. I had seen a post on social media about four two week-old kittens that a friend's family pulled out of a shed in the woods. They were so tiny and helpless, abandoned by their mother, and tugged at my heartstrings. I set up a time to meet the heroic rescuers, grabbed my youngest son and a pet crate, and took off.

Upon seeing them for the first time, I fell head over heels in love. I knew we couldn't just take one, for they were simply too young. So we loaded up a pair and headed home. Googlicious took over. I read everything I could find on how to take care of these tiny critters. I went out and purchased the formula, bottles and a small litter box. I made them a towel lined box bed and set up a kitty nursery right in the man cave. Yes, you read that right. The man cave. This was going to be great!

The boys loved them. I knew they would be completely supportive, that was a no-brainer. They are suckers for cuteness, just like their momma. The first question out of my oldest's mouth was, "Does Scott know?" Silence. "" was my response. You see, I was sticking to the "surprise him with adorableness" method of attack. I hoped it worked, because there was no turning back. The kittens were ours, and I could not part with them at this point. They were family, right?!?

When hub arrived, he got the "best Easter surprise EVER!" (that's what I told him). It took him a minute to warm up to the new parent role that had been thrust upon him, but after holding the tiny bundles of joy, he jumped right in. We woke up a couple of times every night to feed them, made bottles round the clock, and massaged things out of them that I'm not going into detail about for your protection, but I assure you it wasn't pleasant. It was if we'd had twins.

We named our little bundles of joy Lexington Blue and Cool Brees. If you know anything about us, it made perfect sense. Lexi didn't have a tail, and was also the runt of the litter. Upon taking them to the vet for their shots, the doctor informed us that she had been in some sort of trauma and something had actually bitten off her tail. No wonder they had been abandoned! Something had tried to kill them! That only made our love multiply. They were going to be the luckiest cats on the planet.

We discovered very quickly why fifty-something year olds have no business being new parents, or at least why these two don't. We have both been there, done that, and will gladly dote on grandchildren when that time comes. You can spoil them rotten and give them back to their adoring parents. The lack of sleep from kitten care nearly did us in, but we survived. So did the man cave.

As they've grown, these two have comforted Zelda (our dog) when her sis Bella died. They've made us laugh. They've driven us and their big sis Roxy nuts. They've broken things while being curious explorers. They've been spoiled with toys and scratch posts and treats. Hub had always been a dog person, but grew in his appreciation for felines. They poured out extra love as if they knew how fortunate they were and wanted to show us their appreciation. They've purred their way into our hearts and we don't know what we would do without them.

Brees and Lexi now have their own Instagram page, @breesandlexi. They will probably have more followers than I do in a month's time. Brees is the chilled charmer, Lexi is the wild and crazy one. Brees also thinks he's a dog, and behaves like one. It's hilarious. Follow their page if you want a laugh, and can handle the cuteness. I've added a few pics below for temptation purposes.

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