The house has officially turned against The Hub and I. First it was the outdoor creatures, now the indoor critters. This morning I was dozing in the nursery, letting Baby Flails-a-lot gambol about the room. Next thing I know she's patting my face. Thinking I'm about to get some baby love, I smile and open my eyes -- and she jabs her fat little fingers right into my eye! You'd think she'd stop when she met eyeball, but no. Neither my seizures nor my screams seemed to phase her. Parenthood in a teacup, really.
Meanwhile, The Hub woke unnaturally early to the sounds of She Who Must Be Obeyed growling madly at her own tail. She had of course picked this fight with her appendage right in our doorway--WAY too close for us to ignore her, but just out of smacking range. Groggy and enraged, he got up and tossed her onto the bed, our regular solution for soothing the beast. She waited until he had just fallen asleep then crept back to the doorway and started in again. This time he rose with murder in his eye and she took off like a shot. He sighed and decided to hit the shower. It was dawn after all.
But things only got worse. He turned the corner to the bathroom and ran straight into a giant slick of cat vomit that filled the entire hallway. He did like Buster Keaton and fell right on his ass. Now doubly enraged and covered in cat sick, he chased the cat around the house in earnest.
I always knew parenthood would be rough but I figured it had to be easier with just one child. Who knew the child and cat would form an alliance of awful morning madness?
Visit me on Pinterest and Flickr and follow me on Twitter!