Don't Turn your Back on the Cat

It all started bright and early this morning when the cat decided to climb my bedroom curtains. I rolled over in anguish and despair and fumbled for something to throw at him, but my efforts were futile. He then flew (and I mean FLEW) onto my bed and attacked my feet. I kicked, and the cat ran from the room. So...I decided to lay there and doze. In comes Wyatt, about 10 minutes later, and I quickly pretended to be asleep.

"What are you doing, Mama?" poke, poke, poke.

*grunt*

Poke, poke, poke. "What are you doing Mama?"

And that is how the day began.

Side note: For non cat owners, did you know that cats can bark? I like to feed the birds during the winter (my husband makes terrible fun of me--calls me "the crazy bird lady" and such), and the cat sits on the window sill and barks at them.

Buster, I thought I outsmarted you by covering the thawing hamburger meat and sausage in the sink with a couple of cookie sheets. It was all fine and dandy, until it was actually time to cook. I heated the skillet on the stove and took the cookie sheets off the sink. Went to the fridge, got out the onion, and started chopping. While my back was turned, Buster stole the hamburger meat from the sink of water, and flew over the baby gate with it. Phillip quickly retrieved it. We get our meat from a meat market, so luckily it's wrapped in a couple of layers of butcher paper instead of flimsy plastic wrap, so it was still usable. Dern cat. See, he waits. He is smart. He stakes out the kitchen, and watches, and waits. Waits for my moment of weakness, then strikes. Be smarter than the cat, be smarter than the cat! I graduated with honors, you know. It shouldn't be that hard.

Side note: Are cats part flying squirrel? When they leap, they sort of soar through the air like some wild, crackhead rodent, with their appendages spread and slightly flailing. When it happens at my house, it's almost like slow motion. The crazy cat with his legs and body in the shape of an "X", that wild look in his eyes. Me, sitting in the line of fire, with my lips slowly forming the word, "Nnnooooooo!!!"

Buster and his Pork Lovin' Fury

Buster Cat, you are almost 8 months old. You are a very small cat. How can you lift a frozen, 4-lb pork roast out of a sink full of hot water?

Now, I know that I cannot trust the cat when it comes to thawing meat on the counter. I can't even trust him to leave the groceries alone when I unload the car. You know how you make trips back and forth from your kitchen to your car when you get home from the store? I have to make sure to put all meat and/or meat products directly into the fridge or freezer. I can't even set them on the counter until I'm finished unloading. The last time I did that, I found a pound of hamburger meat demolished underneath the Christmas tree. And a banana stuck in the baby gate, but that's not meat. I guess he was just feeling extra feisty that day. He also REALLY loves pizza and scrambled eggs. I cooked a pizza the other day and found a slice under the kitchen table, half eaten. Okay, now I'm getting off the subject. Anyway, I needed to thaw this pork roast, so I put it in the sink and completely--COMPLETELY--covered it in hot water. Surely the cat won't mess with it if it's fully submerged. Ha! What a fool I am. He managed to somehow get it up and out of the sink onto the kitchen floor. Not once, but twice. The second time, a big hole busted in the shrink wrap, and pork blood splattered everywhere. Curse you, demon kitty!!! So, down on my hands and knees I went, to clean and disinfect. Luckily, the roast was fine. Stupid cat. It was nearly thawed by this time, so I stuck it on a plate and put it in the fridge. The only place food can be safe.

Did I mention that I had to move the loaf of bread from the cabinet to the top of the fridge? He doesn't know it's there. Yet. I'm sure when he figures it out, I'll be finding a new hiding place. My bedroom will probably become a friggin' pantry, for Pete's sake.

Well, the pork roast turned out to be carne adobada, which is a Mexican roast, or bbq pork. Delicious. I served it on homemade corn tortillas, along with a couple of wedges of key lime. Mighty nice. I had to lock the cat up while shredding the pork. No amount of squirting that cat will keep him away. He even snuck out when I took the trash out. I thought he'd regret it, since it's cold, icy, and snowy outside. Nope. He had fun bird watching. He did eventually ask to come inside, and I obliged.

I have figured out a way to safely thaw meat now. I put it in the sink , and cover the sink with 2 cookie sheets. I cannot believe I'm trying to match wits with a kitten.

A Cold, Blustery Morning

My day began at 5:30 am when the phone rang. The person on the other end informed me that school was cancelled due to our inclement weather. Great. Never fell asleep after that. I have a few sleep problems, one of which is that whenever I get out of bed, that is the end of my night. I will not fall back asleep. So if I get up to use the restroom at 2:00, well, rise and shine. My husband, Phillip, got up and left for work at the usual time, and then the boys were ready to play at about 7:30. Wyatt pooped his pants (GRRRRR!!!!) and begged over and over, "Don't spank me mama, please!" I cleaned him up and gave him a shower, which he HATES. No beatings this time.

I made some awesome cheese omelets for breakfast. The cat kept jumping up on the counter top to try to steal the eggs. Yes, he was attempting to actually drink the raw eggs. Stupid cat. What a pest. I should have locked him up right then, but I'm not smart like that. Anywho, I made the omelets, served the kids, and sat down to eat. I forgot about the extras on the counter top. Buster didn't forget about them, so he had omelet for breakfast, too. Later, I sat down to check in on my facebook peeps, and lo and behold: my wretched cat came flying over the baby gate with an entire package of hamburger buns. The package was bigger than him! He managed to rip open the package and scatter buns everywhere, while the kids and I were chasing him. The kids were laughing hysterically. Me, not so much. I picked up all the buns, and the cat sauntered off victoriously, with his tail high in the air and the plastic bag in his mouth. So much for that. I picked the bag up later, after he had shredded it like a madman.

Anytime food is involved, the cat must be closely watched or locked up. The only problem with shutting the cat in a room is that he still has his claws, and does a real number on the woodwork. So when I made a pizza for lunch, let's just say the cat got pizza for lunch, too. People always suggest doing the water bottle thing where you squirt the cat when it misbehaves. My cat doesn't mind the water. He is such a weirdo. A freak of kitty nature. Strangely enough, I kind of like the cat. He is gentle and affectionate, and he's awesome with the kids. So he stays.

Hello world!

It was recently suggested to me that I create a blog about all the stupid crap that happens in my life. I thought I might entertain this notion and get started. Mind you, this will probably read like a daily journal of sorts, and you might get an intimate peek at my strange points of view. Having adult ADD (self diagnosed, of course), you will find I jump from subject to subject with great ease. So, here goes nothing.