Wednesday, October 05, 2011

Today, Middle asks a question we'd all rather not have to face. (What The H?)

It's time again to hear from Middle Daughter, who weekly sends me things to post and then I never get around to posting them. Here, she shows why you would never want to visit her apartment without galoshes.


Is this Throw up or is this Poop?

It is an innocent Tuesday evening and I have just arrived back home from a lovely day with hanging out with my mother (Sweetie) and my two little brothers (Mr. Bunches and Mr. F) and I walk in and I am greeted by none other than Stormy.

It had been raining on and off all day and so I knew that Stormy was NOT going to be in a good mood because, ironically enough, she is deathly afraid of storms. And when I say “deathly afraid” I mean “cowering in the corner yelping and crying for hours deathly afraid.”

I walk into my door and I see her in the corner, tail between her legs, and she starts yelling and crying. I thought “oh no, how long has she been crying like this? I try to console her and it seems to be working, so I go about my merry way. I take off my sweater and I change into some more comfortable clothes and then I walk into my kitchen to get a glass of water. I notice that her food dish is almost empty so I go and get her food and I add some more to her food dish because I know that if she can see the bottom of her food dish she is not a happy camper.

After I fill her food dish and get my glass of water and I head over to my living room to turn on some television. As I sit down I saw that I forgotten to turn my kitchen light off so I get up and go and turn it off.

I turned off the light and I walked out of the kitchen and started heading back into the living room as I was walking out of the room I stepped on something. It was not carpet. It was not tile. It was warm and it was wet. I looked down and I saw that it was either poop. Or it was throw up.

I didn’t move my foot and I looked at Stormy.

Stormy, is this poop or is this throw up?” I asked her.

Of course she didn’t answer but I knew that it was one or the other.

I turned on the light and saw that it was……throw up. And to my surprise I was relieved.

Come on, Norm*, keep it in your stomach!

I guess that is the price you pay for owning a cat that has a sensitive stomach.


*Note: It's not a typo. She calls her cat, whose name is Stormy, "Norm."


Michael Offutt said...

It's funny how both throw up and poop end in the letter "p" which taken literally is yet another function of the body.

Middle said...

And I hope that I don't step in that at any point....haha