Poop Shute

Breakfast Of Champions

No, not Wheaties.

Nope, not the mediocre Vonnegut book either.

I'm talking about anger. Pure, simple anger. Let me start at the beginning.

Our cat Marvin likes to destroy things. He tears plaster off the walls, he rips the facing off the kitchen cabinets, and he terrorizes our hourseplants. Up until now that was extremely irritating, but we let it slide. But the past week he starting pissing on things. Things like laundry, the living room rug, and Noel. Well, okay, he pissed on the quilt that was on top of Noel, and she didn't get any on her, but the point is he was standing on her when he let fly. Not cool.

Yesterday was the last straw for me, and I was really angry at him when Meg got home from work. She handled my rage very well and quarantined little PeeSpray Magoo on the front patio with food and water and told me that she would take him to a shelter first thing in the morning when she took Noel home. I was appeased and gradually relaxed.

Fast forward to eight am this morning. Meg was very curt with me and was seemingly going to leave without giving me a kiss goodbye. I asked her what was wrong and she announced that she's pissed off that she has to take Marvin, because "you're the one who wants him gone."

Ex-squeeze me? Immediately, my first reply was to remind her that she had just decided it without discussing it yesterday. To which Meg replied "Come on, you weren't going to do it anyway."

Maybe I would have and maye I wouldn't have, but I wasn't even given the option. And THAT is the most important point here. Meg played Captain Assume and decided that she would just take all the responsibility and get mad at me for a response I never gave to a question that was never asked. Maybe I would have said no, but at least then there would be communication and she'd have a valid reason to be irritated.

The truth is I was actually considering going with her and doing it together, because he was, afterall, our cat. And it was was ultimately my decision that he was to leave, and I understood that. BUT I had some ugly insomnia last night and was up until somewhere between 3:30 and 4, so when that alarm went off at 8 I just wanted to go back to sleep. Seeing as how Meg had seemed so ready to volunteer to do it alone without discussion, I figured I was in the clear.

Apparently not. So now I'm wide awake and pissed off on four hours of sleep.