Tuesday June 7, 2005 // By Sarah
Somebody...
...peed in my gym bag.
Was it our brand new week-old baby neighbor?
Was it a friend, overcome with drunkenness at our barbeque last weekend? (Bob? Luke?)
Was it (gasp!) one of the cats?
Our cats are almost perfect litter box users, and only very rarely leave a present of poop elsewhere in the house. Neither of them has ever peed on my stuff. Well, except the first night we had Clementine, when she was like two inches tall, and she was too scared to get out of our bed by herself to use the litter box. And that was adorable.
So, I’m going to blame the baby. Baby: QUIT PEEING IN MY GYM BAG.
But it wasn’t me this time, I swear. I have other ways to find relief when I’m too exhausted to move from the couch.
(On a, uh, completely unrelated note, I hope nobody drank that half-full bottle of “beer” left on the counter.)