So a couple of weeks ago I decided to participate in a highly entertaining event called cat breading. Yep, you shove a slice of bread around your cat's face then try to keep a steady hand to take a photo while laughing until you cry.
I shoved bread around both cats' faces. I laughed. Morgan laughed. I took pictures. I laughed at the pictures. I sent the pictures to my friends. They laughed. I posted the pictures on Facebook.
The kittehs have sought out revenge. Yes, that's 'kittehs' not kitties...if you visit websites like icanhascheezburger.com you'll understand.
During my last blog I wrote about stepping in a wet spot on the carpet. Fabulous way to start the day. I almost dropped my Cheerios. I took off my socks and threw them in the dirty clothes. Later that day while doing laundry, I found a large dried wad of cat hair on my sock.
I stepped in a HAIR BALL and didn't even know it!
I screamed and did an 'ew ew ew' dance while Shiner and Calvin rolled on their backs and laughed.
The cats are going out of their way to make my life miserable.
There are extra nose prints in the windows.
There is extra hair in all of my curtains.
Nubbies have been left in random places....these are disgusting cat toys that especially Shiner loves. They used to have feathers, but now all that is left are the nub of the toy, hence the name 'nubbie.' I've seen them in the litter box...and in the middle of our bed. The cats know I hate nubbies; I want them to stay in the basement. But they have been appearing in every room upstairs.
There has been an increase of cat fight club meetings (the first rule is...I can't talk about cat fight club...oh snap, I just broke the rule...) leaving wads of cat hair all over my freshly vacuumed carpet. I never know who the victor is; they never honor me with the joy of watching them fight and neither one ever has a bald spot, despite the fact there is a huge patch of hair on my floor that has been jerked out by the roots.
We spent last weekend with my inlaws. When we came home Monday, I wanted to cry because my house was such a mess after our crazy busy week last week. There was a layer of white dust on everything after the new window installation. And the cats apparently had a frat party while we were gone. Michael always does a quick scan of the house for cat vomit and couldn't find any, but there were piles of hair everywhere, nose prints in the windows, items knocked off tables and counters, and 2 innocent looking kitties that acted like they didn't even know we were gone.
I dove into cleaning as soon as we had unpacked. I was in the process of wiping dust and cat hair off of Morgan's train table in our living room when I stepped in something that felt like a wet washcloth. I looked down and saw cat vomit squishing through all the toes on my right foot. I screamed. I said some bad words that Morgan should never repeat even though she totally heard everything I said. I hopped on one foot to the bathroom. Morgan started crying because she is very sensitive and didn't understand why mommy was screaming and cussing and hopping on one foot. Michael comes to investigate and finds me sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sobbing like a child, scrubbing my foot; Morgan standing in the living room, big tears rolling down her face, asking 'is mommy okay?'
The cats were somewhere rolling on their backs laughing hysterically, giving each other high fives (or fours...however many toes they have).
Anybody want 2 cats?
By the way....that's in our bed...where MY feet are supposed to go. Sigh.