Making Lists: Gift Or Threat?

This weekend my husband was on a well deserved boys' trip to Vegas. Not to be out done, I decided to stay with the other family whose husband was on the trip. The morning we left, LB, was climbing up the screen door. Since yelling at a cat doesn't work, I did not leave food for it. It's just one night and the neighbor told me that he feeds fatty-mc-flea-pants too.

The 2 hour drive was atrocious because baby C screamed the whole way. How B just ignores it completely baffles me. I dug through the side compartment until I found some tissue and stuffed my ears. It didn't help much, but at least it was toned down a bit. The other option would be to stop after every 10 minutes of driving and prolong the baby aggravation.

I'm an angel, you are just a bad driver.

Once there the kiddos had a blast. The family lives close to San Diego and it always reminds me just how packed in we are here in LA. It was nice to take a breath for 2 reasons, the air was not brown and the buildings weren't cramped together. They were able to run around the backyard and front yard with minimal supervision. The kiddos even got ice cream from the ice cream truck. C found a new passion.

This is fun but I want a real one.

I timed the drive home perfectly and C slept the whole way. Even B took a little nap during her 100th time watching Frozen. It was actually a fairly relaxing drive.

The morning was going so well until I found the welcome home present on our front step. Luckily we came in through the garage so B wasn't traumatized, but I certainly was. When getting the mail I saw something round and squishy under the mailbox. I bent down to take a closer look and out of the corner of my eye I saw something on the door mat. A complete set of mouse organs lay displayed on the step. The skin was gone, as well as the skeleton. Just the inner organs hanging out on the door mat. and a round pink brain under the mailbox. (My sister informed me that mouse brains are difficult to remove, so it may have been some other organ.) I calmly stepped back in to the house and closed the door. I lie. I screamed and slammed the door.

Then I did the most mature thing I could think of, I posted a distress call on FB. Luckily a kind soul decided to take pity of me instead of mocking me, and drove over to help out. Afterwards I couldn't help but wonder, was this a gift or a threatening display of power. We all know it could not be an apology because it's a cat.