Oh No You Didn't

Ever chased your cat around the house because they have gobs of poop stuck to their furry behind?

Imagine how that would be.

I found it peculiar when Dash jumped up on the couch stinking so I did what any petmom would do- I grabbed his tail to check his butt. Good god! Dash is a very furry kitty so the poo was sticking to him in 4 places. Ewwww. Just. Ew.

I tried using a paper towel to clean it but he was having none of that. He wiggled out of my arms and ran under the bed. Great. I enlisted Mike's brute strength. "Here, hold stinkypoocat while I use a wet paper towel and some scissors." By the end of "surgery" we were both covered in blonde cat hair and I am betting Mike was severely traumatized. He is phobic about puking but poop runs a close second.

I am thinking that whole experience was a test for me. Will I be a good aunt? Can I handle a stinkypoocat butt without throwing up my dinner? If the answer is yes, proceed to the next level. Yay me! Bring on the nephew with the stinky diapers. I passed the test.

But then, that's not all. Because what do I find when I walk into the bathroom this morning? Oh yes. Dash was at it again. I didn't shut the door! Damn me! There goes a perfectly good roll of toilet paper. If only he could figure out how to use all that wasted toilet paper on his own stinkypoo butt, we'd have a solution.

I am really, really tired. Like wiped out tired. Like I did not get out of my pjs all day yesterday tired (which probably goes without saying that I never left the house). I actually didn't feel anxious about being so lazy (which is totally unlike me). I must be really tired. No fooling. I need to rest up because this weekend is going to be Birthday Central. Fun! Fun! Fun! Plus, I have already instituted the "buffer zone"- meaning that you can't be mean to me for the next 8 days. You can, however, lavish me with compliments and tokens of your affection.