Things That Make You Go UUURRR

On Sunday morning I got up with just the slightest whiff of a hangover, and set about my business. I had actually done two things I have NEVER done before after a heavy night of drinking – I had downed copious amounts of water before bed and – gold star please – also taken Nurofen before crashing out. Oh yes and – unprecedented – I’d stuck roughly to wine rather than dabbling across the alcoholic smorgasbord. Well, the feel good factor was short-lived.

Five minutes after I’d started rallying round the troops and feeding the masses, my eldest daughter came bursting into the kitchen, and let’s just say her aura was not golden, and the air was not full of mindfulness. The cat, she told me, with disgust, had vomited all over her bed, and outside her bedroom door. Worse still, not realizing what this big warm patch of deliciousness was that was keeping her toes warm, she had stuck her finger in it to find out. Then, as she was fleeing her room in horror, she had stood – barefoot - in the massive pile of sick outside her door.

How utterly grim. One of the things I’ve always been a bit squeamish about is the thought of dealing with cat food with a hangover; sounds a bit weird maybe, but it’s the smell that repulses me, possibly because I’m not much of a meat eater. So to start the day having to clear down the hugest pile of puke I’ve ever seen was something of a test. And the irony of it all? Well, when my daughter was desperate for a kitten, she swore – and I mean swore, that the kitten would be her responsibility, her charge – she would shy away from no job. But the fact of the matter is that with the best will in the world (and there wasn’t actually even much of that showing) there was no way she was going to manage the skilled jobs of cleaning down five layers of bedding. Or could she? I have realized that I learnt several valuable lessons from this experience. Firstly, even though I know I should have made my daughter clean it up, I was too germ-phobic to risk her not doing it properly. Secondly the cat shouldn’t have been on the bed. Lastly, and most importantly, I reminded myself - don’t give in and let them get a puppy.