And what did he mean by this?
The cake and ice cream have been eaten. The gifts have been unwrapped. The in-laws have come and gone.
Lana is asleep and Gabe is trying to fall asleep. (I swear that child has been fighting sleep since day 1.)
I thought all was well in my house.
And then I walked into my bedroom. And I was hit with the distinct smell of...
Well, there's no delicate way to say this.
The distinct smell of POO.
We had shut the cats away in our bedroom for a few hours because Husband's uncle is allergic.
They were only in there for two hours.
But it seems one of them had to poo. That I can understand. I don't like it, but...when you've got to go, you've got to go.
So, I called Husband to come help me search the bedroom for the poo I assumed the cat would have hidden somewhere.
I don't think this poo was just a poo.
This poo was a message. And the message was pretty clearly one of extreme unhappiness.
Because it ON MY PILLOW.
Little rat b*stard.
I might have to sanitize the entire room...