You know, after that title, I don't know that I need to write much. But still, I will. Because I am that much of an attention whore, and for some unknown reason I think you actually want to hear all the doody that spews from my crazy head.
I would rather lead with Kitty and peepee, but I know if I do, you might throw a coup. So let's start with Wifey. This morning, she got sick right after eating breakfast. She threw up. And then she took a 2nd shower. Because of this, and because (by her calculations) her punctuation is 2 days late, she is now convinced that I have tainted her uterus with my little seeds of fornication. I think that her digestive system disagreed wth the pork roll (if you have ever had it, you know how yummy it is, but you also know that it isn't much more than two or so rungs above scrapple on the pig food chain of quality cuts of meat). And since her half-a-colon is never the same time twice in a row, and since she has been (as I called her on the drive to the theatre camp this morning) the woman who cried "fetus" pretty much every month since Valentine's Day (and why she felt the need to do that first bombshell drop while I was trying to swallow a piece of spicy tuna roll I will never know), I am not too concerned that I am headed directly towards the land of green poo in non-biodegradable packaging. Of course, I will let you know tomorrow where we are registered for that crib we will need so bad.
Now on to my perverted kitty. Lately she has had a habit of coming into the bathroom while I am making the water yellow and putting her two front paws on the lip of the bowl to watch. I know that there is some splash up, just from the physics of the height of my johnson to the water line of the bowl. So she is getting off by getting peed on. And I don't know if I can have a pervert like that in the house where I will be raising my child. So depending on the results of the test that Wifey will be taking tonight, we might have a cat available. Cheap. A dirty, dirty cat.