Monday, February 15, 2010

Confessions: How to end your week with a bang.

We have a cat. Max was a rescue and came with a few phobias (tv remotes) and several odd issues (eating fuzz). But, mostly he's a sweet, loving kitty.

However, one of Max's annoying habits is that he never yacks up fur balls during daylight hours. Never. Never ever. No, I'm always awakened at some awful hour to the sound of a cat strangling. Or, awakened by Larry shaking me while yelling, "Get up! Max is about to puke!"

Nice, huh?

Apparently, I am the only one in this house who can clean up cat puke. I've got skillz, I tell ya!

So, this past Friday at 3:15 in the morning, I was awakened to that sound. I threw back the blankets and my feet hit the floor in one smooth motion. I willed my eyes to adjust to the pitch black. Using my cat-finding-sonar, I ascertained that Max was hunkered down near the door to our bedroom.

Now, one thing you have to know about Max is that he gives me about 4.2 seconds between the first warning "cough" and the point where he actually explodes. There's no time to turn on a light or to put on my slippers. If I'm lucky, there's just enough time to grab him and move him to a surface other than my bedroom carpet.

So, I scooped up Max and made aim for the hardwood floor in the hallway just outside our bedroom. I didn't even take the time to stand. I tucked Max into a football hold in the crook of my right arm and ran for the doorway like a linebacker.

Did I mention that we always sleep with our bedroom door open? Always. Except that night, when we had pushed the door mostly closed to block the light from Burrito's late night television viewing in the family room just down the hall.

In two running steps, I pile drived my head into the bedroom door, nearly slamming it through the frame. At the same instant, Max's 4.2 seconds of warning came to an end.

Surprisingly, Larry woke up right about then and sat up long enough to ask (none too pleasantly, I might add), "What is going on???"

Poor Max! He wouldn't let me pick him up for the remainder of that day. As much as my head hurt, I kept wondering about how badly he'd have been hurt if I'd have stood up and carried him out in front of me like I often do in those situations.

So, how do you end your week with a bang???

8 comments:

dawn said...

ohmy, Dawn. I hope you are OK. I tried really hard not to laugh.

Hey...did you contact Cathy yet about the giveaway?

wear a helmut to bed maybe??

j said...

I don't want to start my week off quite that bangily. Oh Dawn, I'm sorry about your head. Truly. But it makes me think of a seventies situational comedy with lots of slapstick! Ha!

Sorry, SO not funny right now. But when the lump on your noggin goes down? Then it might be a little funny (hee hee).

Berry Girl said...

ROFLOL - Oh dear! Sorry Dawn, but you just made my evening :)

Dawn said...

DAWN: I'm fine... had a tender spot on my head for a couple days. And, it's okay to laugh about it... I can hardly tell the story without laughing so hard I can barely breathe! (I sent Cathy an email tonight and copied you on it. I had a really, really hard time choosing between the Faith and the Free Beach pendants. I chose the Faith one. Thank you!!!)

JEN: Aww, Jen... you know me! It's okay to laugh. Seriously - a good, ole belly laugh!

BERRY GIRL: No need to apologize. Glad I made your evening!

Stef said...

I laughed SO HARD when I read that.
I totally understand that phenomenon. I think our cats are long lost cousins or something. He even likes to eat fuzz. He calls it "cotton candy". Anyway... darn funny story. Glad you didn't give yourself a concussion. :)

Amber said...

Oh my! Too funny. That totally sounds like something I would do. Except that we don't have a cat. But if we did, I would.

a Tonggu Momma said...

Oh my lands... I am so trying not to laugh, but somehow I just can't seem to manage it! Heh. Glad your head is okay now. And yeah, we are REAL familiar with that pick-up-and-point-to-the-hardwood-floor maneuver.

Sarah said...

Ouch! But hilarious.