the bead(s)

We live in a pretty old house. (which I love!) Reese's door to her room has warped, and no longer closes completely. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but last night I almost busted out a hand sander, at 3 am, to take care of this problem.

But, you see, that wouldn't have really fixed the problem.

The problem isn't the door, it is our cats.

Currently, we have 3 lazy cats freeloading in our house. (I say that because I haven't found a dead mouse in about a month, and I can surely hear the little buggers in the walls/ceiling -- wait, do I really want to find a mouse?) Sure, they are fabulous playmates for Ella and cozy little lapwarmers, but last night they threw me over the edge.

At about 1am, I heard rustling on Reese's baby monitor. I took the trip down the hallway, quickly praying that I could get Reese back to sleep without a hitch. To my surprise, Reese was still sleeping soundly. It was the cats. All 3 of the fat kitties were centered around something on the floor.

A bead.

And so, they were taking turns knocking it across the floor. Thoroughly enjoying themselves I might add. As soon as I opened the door, they fled to their respective hiding places. Ash in the closet, under a stack of diaper boxes, and Charcoal and Tank underneath the queen sized bed. I snatched up the bead.

Sadly, Ash's hiding spot wasn't the greatest, and I caught her too. I tossed her out the door, and decided to work on the other two.

My brilliant plan was to outsmart them. (they are cats, after all). I crawled up on the bed and waited until they emerged. I heard them before I saw them.

More beads.

Worried that the sound of the rattling bead and their claws on the wood floor would wake Reese up, my mood intensified. Thankfully Charcoal's tail was sticking out from under the bed, so she was sent out the door. I crawled along the floor to find any remaining beads (I found 4!). I retreated to my hideout to plan another attack on Tank.

Soon enough, I could hear more beads. But Tank, about 30 pounds of the laziest cat you will ever meet, wasn't really playing, just hitting. From the farthest back corner underneath the bed.

Having enough, I started tossing socks at him to get him to move. After about 30 pairs had been launched, he finally surrendered and out the door he went. Baby was still sleeping too.

Dear Ash, Charcoal, and Tank,

If you want to get more air time on the blog, try doing something positive and worthwhile. This is the last time that I am going to encourage your bad behaviors. (And Charcoal, if you'd like a 8 1/2 x 11 of your beautiful head shot for your portfolio, let me know!)

Love, Bethany