You know you’re a crazy cat lady when you can’t even take a piss without your fur ball in your face.
Whenever I come home, I’m greeted by the fluffy little love of my life, Ted and, ever since January the stray we took in, New Cat (Yep – that’s still his name. And yep – the pharmacist still asks about him when I pick up my own prescriptions).
While Tedstar is used to being my one and only, I tried to make my welcome home a threesome.
So now I’ve resorted to picking up one pussy at a time. Ted is coddled first while New Cat
patiently meows as if his claws were being removed with tweezers, having to watch his bro getting some lovin’ before him.
Racing home one day, fearful I might wet my pants before entering my mini manse, I pranced past my pussies at the front door to alleviate my bladder. This was a jeans-zipper-down-from-the-car-carry-your-purse-into-the-bathroom kind of emergency.
And wouldn’t you know, New Cat seized this opportunity to be the first one to mark his territory while I sat on the toilet.
Mr. Tuxedo went from mauling my chest to manhandling my face.
Then NC decided to try and slip me tongue. I’m his mother and although we live in the South, not appropriate.
I shoved New Cat to the ground as I was trying to finish my business and but this little bitch wasn’t taking no for an answer and jumped up into my lap, quickly pretending to be asleep.
In the 27 seconds in which this shit show took place, I realized the magnitude of crazy I’d just achieved.
I was sitting on a toilet.
With a cat molesting me.
While taking a piss.
And I was taking pictures.
Realizing the seriousness of the situation Mr. Bear came to my rescue, shooing New New off of my lap and into a corner.
Not wanting the action to stop, New Cat zoned in on Ted to continue the affection fest.
It’s a good thing we live in the South.