Last week we had a double feature— my son took a mental health day followed by a regular sick day.
Sick days are the worst. I wonder if “typical” sick kids use the same maniacal quantity of energy as my son to argue. At noon, shortly after his 500th “NOOOOO!!!” I let out a sigh of happiness when he conked out for a nap on the couch.
Our kitty must be able to smell sleep, since it took her two seconds after Tyoma’s snores started to visit for some Mama love. The problem, of course, was that Tyoma was curled up in her favorite blanket.
Since I would not let her jump on his chest to knead contentedly, she paced and meowed forlornly. I whisked her away and heaved her outside lest she wake Tyoma. She shivered pathetically as the cold wind ruffled her fur.
Meow, meow, meow, shiver. Sigh.
I let her back in and we spent the next ten minutes in a dramatic but silent battle. Kitty tried to leap on the couch as I gestured vigorously to keep her away. I tossed pillows and made scary faces. When she circled around behind the couch and crouched to jump, I chased her away. She stubbornly returned.
Finally, I remembered she was a cat and took her away. I carried her upstairs and deposited her in the bedroom for the balance of Tyoma’s nap. I closed the bedroom door.
Apparently 45 minutes is too long for a senior kitty bladder. She dug a dainty little nest in my pillows, relieved herself, and snoozed on hubby’s bed till I let her out.
I did not notice the accident until bedtime. All I could only say was “Oh, no!” for the twenty minutes straight.
Fortunately, a pillow absorbed most of the mess. The mattress was spared. I washed up the bed clothes and found the fresh sheets to be extra soft and cuddly.
What did I learn from this, aside from not to close the door on kitty? Be grateful. You can always be surprised by the unforeseen.