That'll teach me to keep my door closed.

MEV recently (like, two weeks ago) acquired two precious little kitties. One is calico/tabby and one is black. Names are Paisley and Puma. We love them. The only drawback is that Puma has REALLY foul-smelling poo and is somewhat indiscriminate about where she deposits it. It's truly dreadful, and you should thank your lucky stars that you don't live with it (I mean, Puma is SOOOO cute and you should be sad you don't get to snuggle with her, but the other stuff is toxic).

I bet you can see where I'm going with this...I'll write about it anyway.

This last weekend, Brad and I headed to Huntsville to meet with all of the future in-laws to discuss wedding-related information. Before we left, I tried very diligently to watch the kittens and not let them in my room, so that they wouldn't get shut in the closet or something like that. I did, however, let them wander in and out of my room for a little while. I thought I was doing a great job of keeping my eye on them.

We got back from Huntsville on Sunday night and were leaving for a meeting almost immediately after dropping all of my stuff off at my house. I stepped into my bathroom (which is attached to my bedroom) and felt like I'd stepped into a public restroom on the side of the road in a foreign country. It was so bad! It didn't make sense, though, because nobody had been using it for 3 days. I started to worry about whether or not there was a septic problem.

I lit a bunch of candles, made sure the trash was empty, and checked to see if the cats had somehow left me a present, but I came up with nothing. The smell sort of lessened a smidge but still lingered. The next morning, I still smelled it and was thinking about calling our landlord to talk about a plumbing check-up.

Then, I put my pants on.

The stench hit me in the face, and I literally started gagging. *Back up: The previous Thursday night, I'd hung my clothes for Friday in the bathroom. On Friday, though, we had a snow day, and I never wore those clothes- I just left them hanging in the bathroom. The pants sort of puddled into the floor (because they were hanging on the towel rack, which is only a few feet of the floor.* I realized, when I put my pants on this past Monday morning that the cat had done her business inside the hem of my pants! I had her business on my leg, it had fallen out on to the bathmat, and I'd stepped on it. There was also urine staining the mat, and y'all- it was SOOOO gross! I had to clean it off the mat, rush the pants and bathmat to the washing machine (I know that could be perceived as a waste of water-washing a load of only 2 items- but it was necessary), change, and scrub the floor with Lysol.

When I opened my bedroom door to dash to the washing machine, the culprit (Puma) was sitting there so sweetly, looking at me expectantly/wanting to be friends. I told her not EVEN to talk to me. Our friendship was very rocky for a few days. We have since made up and are friends again.

The cats are no longer allowed in my room. No matter how cute they are and how incessantly they beg.