My life has devolved into throwing dates at a cat. (Ripe ones are falling in piles on the ground and they are the right size and shape — and within reach). Do not feel bad for the cat. I repeat, do not feel bad for the cat. She doesn’t get hit by the dates anyway — my aim isn’t that good.
Sing it with me: “The cat came back, the very next day . . ..” She can’t even be bothered to open her eyes to look at me. She has been climbing over our wall to get a little “me time” away from her kittens. When they were inside the yard with her, she would do the same thing by perching out of their reach, causing them to meowel at her in chorus, driving my animals crazy inside.
I am a super softie, but when our cat is peeing on my kids at night (perched himself on top of Calvin and peed at 5am multiple times) and when the dog lifted his leg and peed on the end of the boys’ bed and found a new daily pooping spot on Carter’s handmade carpet, my love for animals is severely tested. So if hucking a few dates saves me from staggering around at 5 am, stripping beds and scrubbing cat pee, then that’s what I’ll do.
They have hundreds of stray cat friends up and down the street and unlimited open dumpsters as a 24 hour buffet. My animal rescue plan is maxed out at 2. It seems that I am currently winning this war. Josh drove into the carport the other night and the cat was inside, but eyeballed him and then slowly strutted her way out to the street through the open garage door like, “yeah, yeah, I’m going . . . “
Since I’m already talking about poop, when I saw this new product at the grocery store it made me a little afraid for the blooming that might take place inside people’s bowels. That doesn’t sound fun.
Girlie started her second week of school today. Since Sunday is PE day, this is what she picked out to wear.
Fully accessorized with a headband, ponytail, and bracelets. Her teacher reminds us of Auntie Ginger and it makes me happy that she gets to spend the day with someone who is warm, loving, and appreciates her unique sense of style. I will say that I WAS WRONG because I thought Josh was being ridiculous when he agreed to buy her this set of My Little Pony socks that she wanted when I found some very nice plain ones for school instead. But she wears them every day and calls each pair by name and has gotten every single penny’s worth out of them. A win for Dad.