As I was cleaning off the big chunks of puke from Cate's blankets this morning (thanks to a midnight puke session in her room), I wondered to myself why don't we have a dog in our family like everyone else because a dog might just eat these crusty chunks of hot dog, olives and curdled milk so I don't have to scrape them off these blankets before I wash them.
Then I remembered very quickly that we don't have a family dog because I don't like dogs. I'm scared of most of them. They're beasts. They eat things they aren't supposed to, like squirrels, shoes, small children and poop.
So I quickly then thought to myself where's Maggie (my sister's dog) when I need her? she would eat these crusty chunks of puke off this blanket for me so that I don't have to scrape them off with a paper towel and smell them and feel their texture through the paper towel. oh, the smell.
Then I remembered very quickly that Cate is scared of Maggie (me too). Plus, Maggie's probably in her own back yard right now eating her own poop.
So I finished cleaning off the blankets and put them in the wash, along with the jammies Cate was wearing last night and a few unfortunate stuffed animals that got in the path of the puke. And I thought to myself, the things I do for love. Sheesh. I hope she'll thank me for this some day. She'll thank me for it, right?
Then I went into my bedroom and noticed cat puke on the carpet. Seriously. I wished again for Maggie to be here so I wouldn't have to clean it. She's not here so I cleaned it myself. I did that for love too, but not for the love of the cats. Just for the love of Dan, so he wouldn't step in it.
A few minutes later I took Cate outside with me to water my flowers. She was a good little helper, filling up her watering can and spilling water all over the sidewalk. As she came over for a refill, she bent down next to me and sneezed. Snot came out of her nose and without missing a beat, I used the bottom of the shirt I was wearing (part of my pajama ensemble) to wipe it off her face. That was love, people. I could have used the hem of her nightgown to wipe it but I didn't. My first thought was to sacrifice my own shirt for her.
What kind of mother cleans puke chunks and boogers without thinking of herself? Me, that's who. The same kind of mother who kisses her daughter's boogers.
The things I do for love.
Now, where's my award?
6 comments:
Maybe you could just train your cats better ... ours eat each other's puke and the occasional hot dog dropped from the high chair. Just sayin' ...
Your cats are just brilliant, Cindy. Mine are a lost cause.
My dogs never ate puke, poop, or squirrels!!!!!! EVER! We are in a fight!
But I still like you...you booger kisser!
But did your dogs ever eat small children, Arlene? That's my biggest concern. Finally, I get to be in a fight with someone! Yippee!
They only eat small children that I command them to eat. So far, only 2 1/2. They won't eat yours because they are in my favorite list. :) You, however, better watch out!!!
Maggie doesn't eat dog poop! Well, when she was a puppy she did. Now she sticks with cat poop and the occasional kid poop left in the toilet.
Post a Comment