Its nice and quiet at 6am saturday at my house. The girls are sleeping. Its just me and the cat. I have the TV on and am tapping in my thoughts about getting out of Dodge.
That was scene, when I began to smell it. Fran had recently changed the cats diet. If it was going to have that kind of effect on the poor cat then we should reconsider that move. After a couple of minutes, you'd expect the odor to subside. But it was really bad. How the heck could I enjoy this cup of Kona? After a few more minutes and no relief, It occured to me that my worst fear may be realized. Had Cat missed the box altogether? I set off to investigate.
As I headed toward the utility room, home to Cat's facilities, I realized one of the girls was in their bathroom. The door was slightly open. I was horrified at what I found.
Reagan, striped from the waist down, was sitting in the middle of floor with a small piece of toilet tissue in her hand. She was surrounded by squirtage. It was all over the floor, and all over the wall behind the door. I am not sure how she managed that. Reagan was clearly distressed, but not crying. What a trooper, she was attempting to clean up the mess herself!
These are the defining moments in parenting. This is where you gotta strap on the gas mask, grab the Fantastic, suck it up and ignore all your god given instincts to run! I gotta tell you, I even ignored the fundamental male reaction to run to my wife, get her outta bed and make her deal with the mess! I am so proud of myself. ;-)
All views expressed in this post and on this blog are my own. None of my comments should be construed to represent the views of others including and not limited to: BMC Software Inc., Corel Corporation, Dun and Bradstreet and AC Nielsen. Copyright Chris Hughes 2004-2012