Me, groggily: “Did the alarm go off yet? What time is it?”
Me: “If it’s only 6:15 lets hit snooze again…..”
Craig: “No, 6:50. Look at the clock.”
Well, crap. Looks like it’s going to be a “monday.” Craig left for work at 7:38..and a 50 minute drive ahead of him. Someone’s going to be working through lunch. Then, at precisly 7:42, as I was getting ready to fly out the door behind him- I heard it. That wretched, dreaded sound. The sound that strikes fear into our hearts nearly every evening..gulp, gulp, gulp, SPEW!! Yes, it was the sound of projectile cat vomit. “Darn cat.” I exclaimed, (or something of the sort), and I took off sprinting towards her before a secod eruption could happen. Unfortanetly, she saw me coming and took off sprinting away from me, puking as she went. Just swell.
So, I stuck her in the garage and started cleaning up the mess. I am not sure how I will ever have kids because cleaning up chunky cat vomit off of the wall/carpet is about the limit of grossness that I can handle. Surely baby poop can not be worse than this, please Lord, let cat puke be the worst mess I have to remove from flooring and I will be eternally thankful, I am willing to bargain on that one. After a while, I had most of the nastiness up and realized I was faced with a second dilema- how to get the car out of the garage while keeping the cat in the garage. Plan A was to stick her in the basement and race up the stairs and jump in the car before she noticed I was gone. Yeah, that worked great-this is the cat who is happiest when she is sleeping on your face. I should have known she wasn’t going to let me get away that easy. Plan B was to bribe the cat that had just spewed all over the carpet with a pile of cat treats in the basement so she would be sufficently distracted from my exit. This worked. I am going to let Craig be the first one to the basement tonight.
So I got to work at 8:32. Looks like someone else is going to be working through lunch too. Or I should be. Instead I wrote this post.