Still can't find that damned cat. Kids are not speaking to me and have announced an all-out homework strike until pathetic fluffy skinny thing is located.
Have tried to lie through my teeth that kitten is having a happy time doing cute kitten things with its mummy and siblings. No dice.
Explained that someone else has probably found it (someone who doesn't already have three psychotic felines and a hotline to the local vet) and is lavishing it with care and devotion, not to mention providing kitten treats and catnip on tap. Firstborn just rolled her eyes at me while the Small(er) One did a surprisingly good impression of a sneer.
Have tried bribery. The Small(er) One nearly broke under the temptation of unlimited Walnut Whips and Bounty Bars but Firstborn intervened. That child is destined to be the next Arthur Scargill, no doubt about it.
Peace is currently AWOL at our house with no immediate hope of return. How on earth do you negotiate with a 7 year old and her junior accomplice without a decent bargaining chip?