My brother and I were always running late for school. Dennis would be picking at his breakfast and I would be struggling with my uniform. Mum would be pointing at clocks and pushing us out the door.

‘Hurry up! You’ll be late! I’m sick of yelling!’ she would yell at us.

But then she’d say the strangest thing: ‘This is like herding cats!’

I had never heard that saying before, so for the longest time I thought she was saying something else.

One day, I whispered to my brother: ‘Why does she keep saying that?’

‘What?’

‘This is like hurting cats.’

Dennis shrugged. I pressed on.

‘Why would she say that? Has she hurt cats before? How is me trying to put on my shorts like harming a cat?’

For the longest time, I was worried about my mother. What would she do if we went to a friend’s birthday party and there was a kitten there? She did a lot of pottering around in the garden bed. Was it full of buried cats?

Over time, I stopped being late for school. Maybe I was better at tying my shoelaces. Or maybe I wanted to stop reminding her about the cats.

One cold night, as she tucked me into bed, I finally took a deep breath and asked, ‘Mum, what do you have against cats?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What did you, um, do to them?’

Mum frowned. ‘Huh?’

‘Every morning you say Dennis and I remind you of hurting cats.’

Mum started laughing. She laughed and laughed. I got really scared.

‘No, dear,’ she said wiping her tears, ‘herding cats, not hurting cats. You two are like herding cats!’

‘Oh no!’ I had to confess. ‘For months, I thought you had killed kittens!’

‘Lawrence, it’s a figure of speech! Cats don’t listen to people. It means that it’s impossible to organise you boys in the morning.’

‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

‘Ha! I love cats.’ She smiled. ‘You know you should never take what people say for granted.’

She gave me a kiss and turned off the light.

I laid in bed all night, thinking, What people say for granite?