Catculating

I woke up feeling lekker this morning. Leap Day! What an awesome holiday; all you have to do is jump around a bit and voila, you've got a party on your hands. Bonus points for balloons on your mailbox, the international symbol for party on over here. Furthermore, it's Friday, which is rarely a bad thing. And on top of that, I'm going to a party for a tree tonight, which makes me feel good that I have chosen friends who really will pick any excuse to have a good time - it's a quality I admire.

I leapt awake bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning, which happens about once every four years. The Object, who, as we mentioned yesterday, is not having such a choice week, is more than a little cranky and contrarian. I can sympathize; he's had a pretty worthless week. But the first thing in the morning is not the right the time to lecture me about timing my shower anything. And what he doesn't realize is that if he keeps taking it out on me in the mornings, he will come to regret it.

You see, I have A Plan.

For months, I have slowly been acclimatizing Kitty and the Object to each other. And by "acclimatizing", I mean training. The cat no longer scratched the hell out of the Object's furniture (I refuse to tell you how much money I spent to make this happen), and the Object sweeps up the kitty litter in the bathroom not once, not twice, but three times a day. I do good work, no? They have come to an uneasy truce, and now like each other - well, almost. Kitty doesn't realize that the Object still sleeps with a high pressure squirt gun under his pillow, just in case. And the Object certainly doesn't realize that under my careful tutelage, kitty has become more than a little proficient with the baseball bat. The Object will never see it coming.