It Was Your Cat!

Yesterday I came home to a fantastic surprise. One of the cats had decided to puke in my Mariner's baseball cap. I mean, really who can blame them, the Mariner's can't even buy a win this year. Still, talk about disgusting when you go to put that on.

Of course, after the discovery, came our game of "It was your cat". When Chris and I joined forces we each brought with us a cat. Me a giant angry Siamese, and he a slight Polydactyl tabby. Every time we come home to find puke, or a knocked over vase, or ash colored paw prints leading from the fireplace to our bed, we begin the game of "It was your cat". We both feel that our respective cats could never have performed such an act. I'll say things like "Your cat puked in my hat" and he'll say "Your cat puked in your hat". Of course, we both know that it was my cat that puked in my hat, he's the one that always pukes.

Oh, and as an added bonus, he not only puked in my hat he also puked on the comforter of the guest bed that the hat was laying on. The comforter that I had just washed, not a week ago, in anticipation of my parents visit this weekend. Think they'll notice the puke stain? (JUST KIDDING MOM, I ALREADY WASHED IT AGAIN)
Fun times.