Adult Living

I am shocked at my apparent lacking ability to keep my house stocked with toilet paper on a regular basis. I know, on a intellectually level, that this is not a hard task for an adult to accomplish, making sure there is always toilet paper at the ready when you are in need. But somehow this dose not translate into there actually being toilet paper there when I need it. I always seem to be on the last roll, and never noticeing that I am on my last roll...untill it is gone of course...and I pick up that disappointingly brown piece of cardboard that was left to taunt me (perhaps by the last person to use the fading roll of toilet paper, perhaps as a statement to me about my inability to pull off this seemingly important adult task of keeping a bathroom properly stocked)

Flaming Cat

The little princess lit herself on fire yesterday. Put her butt right over a candle while standing precariously on the edge of the bathtub and oggling us in our apparent insanity at immersing ourselves in water. Didn't have the sense to douse herself in said bath. Ran away instead, me jumping out of the bath to run after her to physically battle the flames away from her. She's ok, only singed, barley visible really. It's the deep psychological scars that will take time to heal....Little boy wins smartest cat of the month by shear default.

Breakfast

My cats sit patiently in the hallway, watching for any sign of life from underneath the covers on the bed, eagerly waiting for breakfast to get the hell out of bed. Hushed anticipation every time the arm emerges to hit the snozze button. Perhaps if they go and sit on top of the lump in the bed and meow mournfully in the direction of the kitchen, perhaps that will make the breakfast get out of bed. To bad that when she finally does roll out of bed (at the godawful hour of almost, but not quite 10) she diverts the trip to the fridge and instead gets dressed, pees, brushes her teeth, washes her face, and stands in the bathroom for an unreasonable amount of time (considering and all the starving small furry children meowing in perfect unison every time she looks at them or speaks to them) Breakfast also dosn't understand why less than 5 minutes from when she produced the desired result of getting out of bed that the two little earmuffs seem to think that it never happened in the first place, and could breakfast please produce again? Ahhh, well they will have to wait till tomorrow's emergence from the bed....