Cat Piss

I accidentally made my wife cry over the weekend. I mentioned the possibility of ridding our house of cats. I don't really want to lose them, they are incredibly awesome, and I love them greatly. However, the weekend brought about two urinary occasions that left me quite upset. Whenever my parents come to town, they seem to receive the brunt of my kitties' bladder venom. One such peeing escapade was in my parents' suitcase. It was on the floor, a place that I thought I was clear about when I said, "Don't leave anything on the floor." But the other was on Sunday morning when I was stripping sheets from the bed and found a big wet spot. Either my parents have bed-wetting issues or one of my cats has taken its bathroom behavior to new heights.

I hollered for my wife to come down because I needed to talk to her. I showed the sheet and made my claim that if this persists, we may need to be done with them.

I love my cats, and I would likely not care as much about their pissing practices. However, with child en route, I'm feeling like I should care more. Yeah, I can replace almost anything they can urinate on, but with a kid rolling around the floor, or not being able to get away from such a substance, I'm feeling the need to take it all seriously.

Plus, I don't want Jr. to get peed on...that would just suck.

Things that make you go, "@#$^%&!!"

Last night I went to see Toy Story and Toy Story 2 in 3D--good times. Though I can agree with a friend of mine that they are not my favorite of the Pixar crew (pretty sure Up will go uncontested for quite a while), but these two flicks are still pretty sweet. First of all, I haven't watched either in years, so to revisit them in a theater with the bonus of 3D was a great little outing. The downside to the evening is that it led for a later night than usual, and with that, my day has decided to seize me.

I woke up late. I was expecting that. I rushed to get ready and was about to get out the door when I noticed a funk steaming from my take-home-stuff-from-work bag. I think I had noticed it the night before when I went to the basement to feed the cats, but I couldn't identify a source, so I thought nothing of it. Now, with me fighting to get out the door, the smell was unmistakably familiar--urine.

"You've got to be kidding me."

In my bag, a folder full of graded papers and my school laptop marinated in a puddle of piss. It was a moment when I couldn't even think of a swear to fit my irritation. My wife felt horrible for me, but obviously her sympathy was all she could offer. I wipe the machine free of most of its foul feline coating and popped the battery out figuring that it could be anywhere among the cracks. Eventually I wrapped it in a grocery bag and headed for work.

Couple of hours later, and nothing has improved much. People have asked me if it still works. "I don't know," I tell them. "I'm afraid to check." Eventually, I did. I clicked the battery back in, plugged it into a wall, and it squealed at me. The sound was like a whale song, but higher pitched and furious. I picture a guy listening to the sounds in a room and interpreting. "Mmm...she's angry."

I'm angry.

Parent teacher conferences are tonight and that machine has my student records on it. Luckily, I know my students fairly well by now and we can talk about character and work ethic more than assignments.

The only other joy of today is that the computer guy at school was very cool about the who thing. I'm on a list to get a new computer by the end of the month anyhow, so my old one was going to be gotten rid of anyway. I'll be without a laptop now for a couple of weeks, he says, but after that, I'll have a better machine.

Nine and half hours to go before I head home...