Bathroom remodel, or as one of my friends put it, 'bathroomapocalypse,' begin this morning with 2 workers and our contractor laying down a path of drop cloth (which by the way makes basement stairs very very tricky for klutzy people like me to try to walk down to get a bottle of water from basement dungeon while water is turned off). As soon as the sound of tiles being smashed from the wall began, the cats scattered and Morgan stood with her face in her hands saying 'uh oh!! messy messy messy!' Michael (after working all night) was soon snoring on the couch regardless of the pounding and sawing coming from the hallway; he was however awakened by the sound of our fire alarm going off...it even says (in a very calm reassuring voice) 'fire, fire.' Good to know that the alarm wakes him up, even though he can sleep through bathroomapocalypse. The fire alarm went off, by the way, because they were using a flame thrower thingy for new pipes in the tub area.
Morgan was so good during all of this. We were basically quarantined to one side of our house...the side with the living room, dining room, and kitchen. She usually spends her day running back and forth from her bedroom to the main section of the house, but today she calmly played in the living room...other than the times we had to drag her out of the bathroom...she seriously is more curious than a cat, and by the way it didn't take long for the kitties to have the courage to investigate, I told Michael to do a kitty head count after the workers left because I don't wake to wake up at 3am to muffled meows coming from the wall (the idea of a cat getting walled in makes me laugh way more than it should).
After the workers left, Morgan had her first catastrophe of the day. She tried to run (full speed) into the kitchen while holding a yard stick horizontally. FAIL. The yard stick was wider than the door and snapped into pieces, which bounced back and hit Morgan in the chest. Not only did it scare her to death but she got pretty scratched up. She cried and cried and moaned and cried. Big tears and lots of snot and garbled 'I got hurt' and 'I need boo boo cream.' So we went through about 15 minutes of 'boo boo cream' treatments and bandaids and cold paper towels, and even busted out a 'boo boo binky' (keep pacifiers in the fridge, whenever they get hurt, stick one in the mouth to stop the noise). Even after eating all of the frosting off a cupcake she was still upset and ended up climbing on my lap and fell asleep...I enjoy having her fall asleep on me. She's so snuggly. But now she'll probably be up until midnight since she had a nap, and Michael and I are pretty much going to be ready for bed by 9 tonight.
After she 'slept it off' (the boo boo drama) we decided to run to Lowe's for the 134th time this week because I FINALLY decided on a wall color, and we needed a few other things. Plus we needed to walk around a bit after sitting on our couch all day watching men hard at work (it's exhausting). After Lowe's we started talking about dinner. We both decided we needed some beef. The conversation was a little insane and went a little like this:
me: I need beef in my belly!
Michael: You need a triple burger.
Michael: I need a....meatzilla burger.
me: A meatzilla burger?
Michael: Yes. No buns. Just a huge burger in between two steaks.
Michael: Yeah, that is sorta gross. But wouldn't that be awesome to see on the menu?
me: Maybe you should open a restaurant that serves burgers and you could have the meatzilla.
Michael: And the meatasaurus rex.
me: Served with a side of chicken fries.
Michael: Okay, we're going to Wendy's.
me: Yeah....a baked potato sounds good.
And now my entire back is covered in princess stickers so I think it's time to wrap this up. On the bright side, we have no bathtub (or shower) until probably Wednesday, so no battles over who's going to give Morgan a bath today. Tomorrow shall be one stinky Valentine's Day in our house. Happy VD to everybody!