October 26, 2003
It's Not a Party...
until the cat has shat in the bathtub.
I'm Pathetic and No One Likes Me Having a joint birthday/housewarming party concept sounded good in theory, but inviting people at the last minute meant that no one I invited showed up. Even my sisters ditched me, having acquired free tickets to the Georgia game. So it became Mark's birthday party, as originally conceived, and we hung out in his side of the house.
Still, an Excellent Party Everyone got on well, and we had an excellent spread of munchies and cupcakes, which we made that afternoon. We bought way too much beer, which Mark will now have to finish off. We even made sangria, which turned out pretty well for having improvised the concoction. At one point we turned into our own "We Love the 80s" focus group, discussing the cartoons we liked - I'm so relieved I'm not the only one who remembers Jem and the Holograms! One guy's dad wouldn't buy him a Commodore 64, which was priced at $200, because his father didn't think computers were the wave of the future. Someone else speculated that in the future, kids will sit around and complain how their fathers wouldn't buy the first flying cars.
Bad Cat Mummy Since we opted to keep the party in one side of the duplex, I'd forgotten to reopen the closet containing the litter box. (I'd planned to keep the cats in the bedroom during the party.) It stayed shut until I sheepishly discovered my error the next morning. Tabitha immediately climbed in to use it, and Ginger sat right outside, awaiting her turn. And yes, I felt terrible.
When I flung open the shower curtain, about to perform my own ablutions, I discovered to my screaming horror that the cats had taken matters into their own paws. It's really not fun to have to suddenly scrub the bathtub whilst clad in a towel. Then again, I'm relieved that my cats picked the most sensible place for their emergency, as opposed to relieving themselves, say, on my bed.