I Got a Black Eye…From My Cat

The other morning Ozzy and I got up while it was still dark outside. Actually…it’s always dark when Ozzy and I get up.

I opened the door to let Ozzy outside. Instead of his usual mad dash for squirrels, he took one step and then froze (not literally) in the doorway.

Open the door! The squirrels are getting away!

He looked at me, and I swear he said, “I don’t have to pee that bad. I can hold it.”

Esme Kitty saw his hesitation as her chance, and she dashed out while meow-yelling, “YOU CAN NEVER TAKE…MY FREEDOM!”

I let go of the door and reached down to grab Esme. Unfortunately, that lined up my eye with the door handle. SMACK!

The next 5 seconds went like this:

Thoughtsy: Power through the pain! Must…get…black cat…before the darkness swallows her up whole.

Ozzy Pups: THE CAT IS ESCAPING! ::he starts to chase Esme::

Thoughtsy: Screw the cat. She has fur for a reason. Ozzy will herd her home anyways.

Ozzy Pups: ::after 5 steps::  Screw the cat. It’s even too cold for chasing.

Thoughtsy: I will never forgive myself if Esme turns into a catsicle. ::walks outside::

Esme: Freedom is cold. So very cold.

And that’s when Esme ran back to the door and started pawing at it to be let in. Ozzy followed.

Esme: This coat is now mine. Get another.

Once back inside, my adrenaline rush was over. My head raced:

• I’m gonna have a black eye.
• Do I put steak on it or frozen peas?
• What if I have a concussion? I shouldn’t go to sleep.
• WHAT IF I DON’T EVEN HAVE AN EYE ANYMORE?!?!?!

The good news is I still have a fully functioning eye. The bad news is it looks like I’ve applied blue and purple eyeshadow to only one eye. I can’t wait it turns green.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Ok, I’ll admit it…..I took the baby out for key lime pie martinis. What? I’ve been waiting for you FOREVER. At least somebody in your family still knows how to have some fun!”—Misty’s Laws

I Do NOT Snore

Now that the second trimester is about to end, what can I tell you about it? Hmmmm…

• It’s been uneventful.
• I haven’t even had any crazy cravings.
• Ozzy Pups sits on my lap all the time. I think he senses that it’s about to disappear.
• Morning sickness returns about once a week just to mess with me.
• I snored…twice.

During the middle of the second trimester, my mom and Kiefer had this conversation:

Mom: So…how is she? Is she driving you nuts yet?

Kiefer: Is this a trick question?

Mom: No. I mean, is everything irritating her yet?

Kiefer: Nope. She’s only had one breakdown when her clothes wouldn’t fit. She’s been good.

Mom: ::giving Kiefer a sympathetic pat:: It’s coming. Is she snoring yet?

Kiefer: No. I’ve never heard her snore.

Mom: ::another sympathetic pat:: That’s coming, too.

A few days ago, I woke up to find only myself, Ozzy, and Esme in bed. Kiefer was missing.

I thought, Haha! The sympathy middle of the night pees have finally kicked in!

The next time I woke up was for my own bathroom trip (That’s karma for laughing at Kiefer), and Kiefer was still gone. He was on the couch.

Kiefer: You were snoring.

Thoughtsy: ::horrified:: WHAT?

Kiefer: Not loudly.

Thoughtsy: You’ve been snoring since your surgery, but I just roll you over ignore it.

Kiefer: Esme was also sleeping between my legs. I think she’s just softening me up before she kills me.

Luckily, my snoring lasted 2 nights. It is finished…for now.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Whenever a stranger touches your stomach, your response should be ‘Yes, that is what happens when you eat too many large pepperoni pizzas. Let it be a lesson to you.’”—PinotNinja

Happy Thanksgiving!

She Is Her Mother’s Cat

The vet told me my cat was fat. At 11 pounds, he said she should be 9. So I put her on a diet, and she’s not happy about it.

I wish I could be more like Esme. She’s completely happy in her slightly chunky skin and wants nothing to do with the dieting.

Recently, she’s taken to doing the following:

• Drinking the leftover milk from my cereal.
• Picking the ham out of my scrambled eggs while it’s cooking on the stove.
• Pawing at me until I give her my chips. (Ok, ok, she’s always done this.)

The chip thing is really helping me with my portion control. I can only eat about 3 chips before Esme hears the bag comes running.

But last week, she did something that brought a tear to my eye.

At first, I thought she was raiding my vodka stash.

To celebrate our new house, I made The Domestic Rebel’s Birthday Cake 7-Layer Bars. And Esme tried to eat my dessert! It broke my little heart to scream “No!” at her and cover it.

I’ll let you caption this picture:

1. You are getting very sleepy. Now take off the lid, biatch.
2. Please, please, take off the lid.
3. Why do you hate me?
4. Damn you, opposable thumbs.
5. Other:

Favorite Comment from Last Post: “The poster creeps me out. Her eyes are like the sea. And I can’t swim. So yeah… Makes perfect sense to me. Just thought… Was I meant to type something nice about the play rather than my own idiosyncracies? Ahh well. What’s done is done.”—AndTodayFolks

Papa-Papa-Paparazzi

Be wery quiet….

We’re hunting wabbit….

What’s up, Doc?

Heeeey…that’s not a wabbit!

Esme: Why are you always in my face?

Esme: Kiss it. Just kiss it!

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I’m not sure what the Sweet Potato Queens guidelines say on this, but I do notice that the apology was not accompanied by a cupcake.”—Hippie Cahier

A Visit to Zoobilee Zoo…in Pittsburgh

Want to join me on a safari? But I’m warning you right now, it’ll be dangerous.

Cat fights…

Leopard: If you take me home, I’ll eat Esme Kitty for breakfast.

Close calls…

Deery Lou: Your sweater sleeve tastes soooooo good!

Violence…

Peacock: Thoughtsy, I’m here to help you get over your fear of birds…and then I’m going to knock you unconscious with my massive tail feathers and peck your face off.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Cupcakes are being melted and dangled all over the place here, Thoughtsy! I just can’t handle the cupcake abuse!”-Daile