Skin the Cat

I don’t know why, but every time I want to take Troy’s onesie or shirt off, and I want him to raise his arms, I say, “skin the cat.” Somehow, he learned exactly what that means, and he obediently raises his arms above his head. It’s strange, because I’ve always said it, and he’s always raised his arms as far back as I can remember. I never showed him what I wanted, he just did it. I remember my mom saying it to me when I was little too. Maybe all kids are born with this knowledge imprinted in their DNA.

I’ve never really liked the imagery of that phrase, especially with a cat, but that’s how those things work. Somehow a phrase comes into existence and then is passed down from generation to generation, until it may no longer make sense. Seems like some variant with another animal that is commonly eaten would make more sense, like a rabbit.