Dental Floss, A Ghost Cat, and A Broken Thumb #iPPP
Otherwise known as a Tuesday night. So what’s been happening around here?
Well, the weather has turned more spring like. Sort of. At least at certain points in the day. And with daylight savings time, Brinky has time to play outside with the neighbors after I get home from work. Last night he was so happy he was laughing and squealing and jumping around. But that didn’t mean he was willing to put down his dental floss. Have I mentioned that dental floss is by far his favorite toy?
He had fun playing and even gave his neighbor friend sweet hugs. But none of that meant he was willing to put down his floss.
Another thing that makes Brinkley really happy? Our ghost cat. Ever since we had to have one of our cats put to sleep in the fall, we find that a lot of evenings Brinky starts laughing HARD in his room after he’s gone to bed. He’s in his room, in the dark, with nothing to do but go to sleep. And he starts laughing like he’s having the best time. So we decided that the ghost of Marisa the cat must hang out in there with him. This weekend Reagan and Lee got it in their minds that Marisa is truly entertaining him, with a stand-up comedy routine, while wearing leather pants and a sequin shirt. I mean, I’d probably laugh too.
Then there’s Jenny. This girl has been home sick from school since last Thursday evening when her fever and cough started.
She probably could have gone back to school yesterday, but there have been a lot of kids out sick, and her teachers really didn’t want any of them back until they were definitely better. She did head back to school this morning. Anyway, the point is that while she’s been sick, I kind of forgot about the thumb she smashed with a weight last Wednesday. And yesterday when I looked at it again, I realized it’s really not looking too great. I should probably clarify that our original thought was that it was bruised, possibly jammed, not broken.
So…I’m thinking we’ll be heading to the doctor to get that checked out too. Apparently she hadn’t wanted to say anything else about it because one of her teachers said she’d probably have to have her fingernail removed.
That’s our life right now. What’s happening in yours?
Linking up with Greta and Sarah for #iPPP.
The Best Way to Start the Day
I’m stealing this post from my husband because I know he doesn’t mind, and it’s too hilarious not to share. He called me when I was on the way to work this morning to let me know that a cat had pooped in the washer. One of our cats, I assume. Here’s the full story.
I’m afraid the day may be lost.
I’m loading the washing machine this morning and thinking, ‘oh, man, that smell is not a wholesome smell.’ I curse my family, then I keep loading.
Oh man, I swear that smell is not even a human smell. And I’ve only loaded shirts.
Oh, man.
Oh, no.
Wilson crapped on the clothes; it would be just like him.
I pull all the clothes out; I shake all the clothes out.
Nothing.
I look closely, shirt by shirt.
Nothing.
It’s not Wilson. It’s not even the clothes.
I turn back to the washing machine. The dread is overpowering, but less so than the smell.
I have a flash of brilliance: get the noseplug. I credit dozens of poop surprises a la Brinky for this defensive reflex.
And…there are turds in the washing machine.
Cat turds.
The thoughts are coming too quickly, piling on; I try to parse them, with mixed results.
First thought: Really?
Second thought: Really.
Third thought: Which one did it?
Fourth thought: I should throw both of them in and run it on ‘comforters and bedding’ with ‘extra rinse’ until I get a confession.
Fifth thought: If they can do this, I wonder if they can be potty-trained?
Final thought: Really?
I don’t know where the day goes from here. I’ll be running the washer–empty, except for lots and lots of bleach–for the rest of the morning. Running the washer and trying to forget.
I’m thinking it was this cat:
So how did you start your day?
It’s My Cat In A Box « Mr. Sensitive
It’s My Cat In A Box « Mr. Sensitive.
I was kind of disappointed that Lulu jumped out of Brinky’s crib before I managed to get the picture. But also glad that she got out of his crib. These pictures are so funny.
Untenable « Mr. Sensitive
Lulu keeps sleeping on the changing station. Why won’t she stop? Of course, she’s probably under the weight limit, and Brinky’s almost certainly not. But still. It’s not for cats. It’s for babies. Apparently she was sleeping under it the other day and popped up and scared me while I was changing Brinky.
Cat Partisans « Mr. Sensitive
Cat Partisans « Mr. Sensitive.
That darn cat. She’s always messing with Brinky’s naps. And trying to trip me in the middle of the night. Or sleeping on top of me when I don’t really want her to.
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