It's official. I'm 'Not Nice'.

Sunday I decided to get my little ladder and paint out of the spare bedroom and do a little touch up in the living room. No biggie, I painted for an hour maybe. Of course I didn't collect all my stuff back up and put it away for many hours. Then Monday I went a did a little grocery shopping, banking and picked up my house. Ya know, just puttering. Tuesday I cooked a pot of beef stew, did some more laundry and puttering.

This morning Capt. Ass-Kicker says to me have you seen the cat? I must have had the Duuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr look on my face because he just walked away. When I came back in from taking the dog out The Capt. is headed down the hallway, yeah, you guessed it. He opened the spare bedroom door and out comes a cat rocket. The look my husband gave me! He was wishin me dead. I had no idea the cat had gotten herself locked in there. Usually if she gets stuck, and it happens a lot (she's what'd I'd call slow), I can hear her Meow for help. Even from the basement I can hear her. So I'm chalking this up to an unsuccessful suicide attempt. "It's not MY fault Your Cat is Suicidal"

OH! And Congratulations to my Youngest Sister. She just found out she passed all her classes and gets to Graduate the Pittsburgh Art Institute!

My dad's cats used to do that when I lived with him. We'd be wondering where the cats were and as soon as I opened my bedroom door...out the shot.

So my dad says "You shouldn't keep your door closed" Uh, no. The whole purpose was to keep the cats out (and thier hair off of my black work pants), not to lock them IN! LOL.
Be nice to the pussy. Always. I try to live by that mantra.
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