Memorial Day weekend was hot and humid in Atlanta. It felt like summer. So, for the first time this year, I didn’t wear socks to bed. (I suffer from cold feet – which is better than hot, stinky feet like my Dad and nephew James.)
About 5:30am on Memorial Day I got up to go to the bathroom. As I sleep walked to the bathroom, I suddenly felt something stuck to the bottom of my foot. As I woke up, I began to realize what it was.
Scooter Cat had dropped a turd just outside my bathroom, perfectly positioned for me to step on. He got me again. I woke Ann up spewing some unkind words at Scooter. But he maintained his Siamese attitude, knowing he would be forgiven within minutes. How can I stay mad at the creative mischief that is the spirit of Scooter?
Related link: Know Your Blind Spots