Return Of The Rat Bastard

I wouldn't  bit dream of calling my husband an idiot, well actually I have, and probably will do so again, but this evening it came pretty damn close. I am sitting in the basement, at the computer blogging. The window above my head is open, and Mooch, our fattest cat is sitting there surveying her domain through  the screen. All at once there is an almighty crash in the hedge outside the window, the cat squawks and leaps out of the ledge landing on me, legs akimbo and claws in attack mode. I do the only thing I can, scream and then swear loudly.  As I am applying tourniquets to staunch the flow of blood, my husbands face appears at the window. "I'm sorry" he says trying for contrite, but not quite achieving it, "Did I a scare you ?" "No" I snarl, now that I realise who is behind this.  "You didn't scare me, you scared the f***ing cat and she jumped on me" . This is met with peals of laughter, not exactly the response I was expecting. My husband, herein known as Rat Bastard, explained what had happened.  "I was trying to get Charlie (another cat) in, but he wouldn't come to me , so I thought if I threw the watering can into the hedge behind him, he'd run towards me".  "Oh yeah ?" I reply " And how did that work out for you ?" The sarcasm dripping almost as much as my blood. "Not so well" the Rat Bastard admitted.

So let me tally up, we now have one cat who probably won't come within 50 feet of the house for the rest of the night, another cat who is in hiding and will probably pee on Rob's bathroom mat just to show her displeasure, and then me, covered in bloody scratches.  Sid & Grady now want to go and play out front, "Why not ?" I said "Maybe if you're lucky, your father will throw a watering can at you too".

For normal families, the story would end here. Actually for normal families the story probably wouldn't have happened in the first place, but anyone who has been following my blog knows that, not only are we not normal, it appears that we can't even pretend to be normal either.  The Rat Bastard, egged on by his idiot offspring, decides to show them what happened with a repeat performance. The cat has finally crept out of hiding and has returned to her seat in the window. I am still busy blogging, and happened to be oblivious to this fact, but not for long, because the watering can is suddenly catapulted into the hedge again, and it is déjà-vu for me, only this time there are two little faces pressed up against the window watching the show. I hope it was worth it for them, because I am still dreaming up a suitable punishment.

As for the Rat Bastard ? Well, lets just say he will pay. I'm thinking it might be time for a new kitten ...