I'm waiting for a document to attach to an email I need to send to night so that I can finally go to bed. My word, so sleepy. In the meantime, allow me to tell you a little story about that cat. (No solitaire or jumping in lakes involved.)
That. Cat.
Y'all, I declare. That cat.
So, jlr and I were planning to make a lasagna to take to our grandparents tomorrow. I thought I'd get a head start on it before she got home from work by going ahead and browning the meat. So I got the meat cooked, and then, because I had noticed His Highness hanging around the kitchen in an interested way, transferred the meat to a bowl, which I covered in plastic wrap. I went upstairs for something and was up there for less than a minute when I heard a licking / lapping sound coming from downstairs.
I raced downstairs, and there he was on the counter, licking up fresh grease from the frying pan. I could not believe it. (Well, I say now that I could not believe it, but I seem to remember saying at the time something like "Aha! I knew it!") Some yelling on my part ensued, punctuated frequently with "Bad cat! You're a very bad cat!" and then he calmly sat in the dining room and cleaned the grease off his face for the next ten minutes. The next ten minutes he spent puking all over our town home. And then, of course, he wouldn't eat his dinner.
Of course.
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2 comments:
If you asked him, I'd bet Wally would say that it was all worth it.
Oh, I'm sure he would. He's such a little stinker. It's a good thing for him he's cute. :)
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