Well, my husband is an extremely understanding guy, and fortunately he likes cats and loves me, but I managed to push the envelope (and his buttons) this afternoon, all unawares of course, lol.
Steve actually took a holiday from work today, since he's been on the road for most of the last month. So, when I got ready to leave to take Livvie to the vet for her recheck (she has a bad case of metritis), his Prius was parked behind my Explorer, so I took it to the vet.
Now, I need to back up a minute and explain that Livvie has 2.5 week old kittens that I'm hand feeding, since she's been ill. So right before packing her up to go to the vet, I was down on the floor in the kitten room, nippling them all.
Incidentally, Cha's babies will be five weeks old on Thursday, and so have graduated from their crate to the run of the kitten room. For the un-initiated, kittens generally potty train from about 4-7 weeks old, and this age is what I refer to as the 'pig-pen' stage. They're awful cute, but messy. Well, this particular litter has been just WONDERFUL, from the time they were not quite four weeks old, pottying in the litter box. I've been SO impressed with them . . . a little prematurely, as it turns out.
So, I fed the little babies, and then packed their mom Livvie into Steve's car, and headed to the Vet's office. One uterine (her's, not mine, lol) flushing and big dose of antibiotics later, I open the door to put her into the Prius, and notice this small brown stain on the driver's side seat. "Huh, Steve'll need to be careful about eating in here", I think to myself. "Looks like he got some chocolate on the seat."
I arrive home, and start to unload Livvie. Gee, I didn't notice there was a smear attached to the stain. Oh, well, sun's out now, guess I didn't see it as clearly earlier when it was cloudy. (NOTE: Self-delusion is a wonderful thing . . . seeing as how I live a whole 10 minutes from my vet, the weather couldn't have changed THAT much . . .)
I put Livvie back in with her kids, and come back into the living room. Steve wants to go look at plants to replace those in our front flower beds that we lost to the hard freeze we had this winter. I grab my purse and we head back out the door. Steve opens the driver's side of his car. "What the hell is on my seat?"
"Oh, honey, I meant to mention that to you; you'll need to be more careful about eating chocolate in the car."
I grab a Kleenex out of my pocket and bend over to take a swipe at the stain.
Steve: "I didn't eat any chocolate in the car. Holy shit, is that a poop log on your ass?"
And sadly, no it wasn't chocolate, and yes, it was a very small 5-week old kitten size poop log on my ass. Guess they aren't as well potty trained as I thought.
I'm now banned from the driving the Prius without a prior ass check. After I change my shorts, guess I'll be calling Stanley Steamer . . . again.
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