My Day So Far

Not a typo, this really is my day so far... at only 10:06 A.M.

I wake up, go to throw on some clothes because Rob needs me to move the van. Something's not right, I start sniffing and realise the cat - who has recently been acting out - has peed on the shirt and jeans I left on the floor. That sets me right off, f***ing cat this, f***ing cat that. I am not happy. Rob uses this opportunity to give me a scathing lecture, "If you do insist on leaving your clothes on the floor where I trip over them, yadda yadda yadda" What ? You have to be kidding me. So it's now my fault the cat used my clothing as a litter box ? Not the direction you want to be heading in darling!

I find clean clothes and head downstairs, just as Sid comes running  in the kitchen, stubs her toe and promptly drops the F bomb, in a perfectly enunciated English accent. That prompts another lecture from my dear husband, this time about my potty mouth.  He is now firmly entrenched in "Death Wish" territory. The cat pees on my clothes - obviously I haven't moved on from that episode yet - and he has the audacity to complain about me teaching Sid swear words. He should appreciate the fact she is expanding her vocabulary in such a colourful manner.

Now that I'm in the kitchen I realise something doesn't smell right. This time it's not my clothes. The smell is emanating from the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room. It is the unmistakable odor of dead mouse. Old house, plaster walls, it's not the first time a mouse has got trapped inside and died.  Believe me, the smell is like nothing you can imagine. Brilliant. We have only two options, either put up with it until it fades, usually after a few days or knock holes indiscriminately in the wall and try to locate the decaying corpse. I tried that once, it didn't end well. How was I to know it was a load bearing wall ?  So plan A it is. Spend as little time as possible in the kitchen. Suits me, I've already had to make dinner twice this week, and that's two times too many as far as I'm concerned.

By now, I should be drawing to a close, after all just how much crap can I squeeze in, in a single morning, apparently one more little episode, and we are back to the cats. This time it is the latest addition, the one I picked up on Sid's birthday when I went to buy a cake - a tale for another day. He is way overdue to go in for the big snip, but I needed to pay for the van repairs first. Anyway he is a small cat - not his testicles tho' I swear they're bigger than my son's - probably a totally inappropriate thing to say, but maybe if Grady didn't run around the house with his underwear on his head instead of where it should be I wouldn't notice these things.

Anyway back to that cat. Yesterday, despite my best efforts to prevent it he got into a fight with a local bully, and ended up with a bite on his rump. Great, the last time that happened - only a few weeks ago - the bite abscessed and cost me a small fortune in vet bills. This morning, doesn't he go out and do the same thing again. So instead of sitting down with a well deserved coffee and the Daily Telegraph crossword, (an indulgence before the daily drudgery)  I am - much to the amusement of the neighbours - running in circles around the front garden with a bucket of water trying to chase off the attacking cat. Yes, I know it would have been easier to keep my cat indoors, but try explaining that to the 7 year old who let him out.  By the way, I totally missed with the water - got my cat instead of the stray, but at least it had the desired effect. The stray cat legged it, and mine was so stunned from his cold shower he just froze (no pun intended) and I was able to kick his furry little arse back in the house, where he is going to stay from now on.

There you have it, my day so far. Can life get any better than this ?