Lest you think I am a crazy cat lady, I have written a 100-word lament to my nemeses this week: Morse, Diamond, and Sapphire.
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Dear Kittens,
It’s lucky you filthy pigs are adorable, because your explosive deposits up the wall are not appreciated.
Please do not fall into your own steaming pool of poo and then climb my leg–I do not wish to share your intestinal parasite. Also, I’m running low on bleach. Please aim for the box with your leaky hindquarters–and the gullet with your malodorous wet food–before wandering off to destroy the couch or wedge yourself irretrievably behind the credenza. I do love you like a bad boyfriend, but I may need to break up to save my sanity.
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P.S. I’ve run out of fecalyzers. Let’s nip this bug in the bud so I do not have to continue taking your stool samples with chopsticks and Ziploc baggies. The middle school carpool and I feel a little weird driving around with fecal matter on coldpacks in the trunk. Thanks.
Bad Parenting 101 