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Cat’s Shit in the Cradle

The pets are revolting! Our beagle has been peeing in the bathroom for over a month. Recently, our cat pooped in a crib — while a baby was sleeping. I walked into the nursery to discover Clemmy rolling in cat shit — covered from head to toe. I stood slack jawed for a good 10-15 seconds in utter disbelief. On the other hand, Clemmy seemed completely unfazed — that is, until she googled it.

“Daddy, are you real?”

“Come again, sweetie?”

“Are you real or a hallucination?”

“Of course, I’m real. Are you?”

“I don’t know! Is this heaven?”

“It’s not how I would draw it up.”

“Daddy, I’m serious!”

“Sweetie, what’s this about? The cat poop?”

“Of course it’s about the friggin cat poop!”

“Oh crap — you googled it?!”

“Well, I sure as shit didn’t use Bing!”

“Sweetie, I warned you about googling medical issues?”

“Taxoplasma is coursing through my veins!”

“You obviously didn’t read the whole article.”

“I read more than enough, daddy. Did you know cat poop causes mental illness, blindness, and even death?!”

“Well, I can confirm that you’re still alive.”

“Sure daddy, but for how long?”

“Sweetie, your mother and I know all about the risks of cat poop.”

“Are you kidding me?! And you still kept Oscar?”

“Sweetie, if you had read the whole article, you’d know it’s nearly impossible for indoor cats to get the poop parasite.”

“I don’t care about probabilities, daddy! This isn’t f***ing Moneyball.”

“So, we should get rid of you the first time you mess up?”

“Yes — especially if it involves shitting on babies!”

“Technically, Oscar shit near you, and then you rolled into it.”

“You’re right — totally my fault.”

“Sweetie, we wouldn’t get rid of you no matter what — you’re family — so is Oscar.”

“Daddy, I realize Oscar is like family — but he’s NOT family — he’s a wild animal.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetie.

“Bullshit! You’re saying that you love those creatures… as much as your own daughters?”

“Exactly! If anything, it’s the other way around. We chose Turk and Oscar for companionship. You’re more of a biological compulsion than a choice. 

“Pfft! Let’s say me and Oscar are about to be hit by a car, but you can only save one.”

“Hmmm. In this hypothetical, are you crawling yet?”


“Sweetie, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Without hesitation?”

“Of course!”

“How about ME vs PENNY?”

“Gee-whiz! That’s a real deal Sophie’s Choice.”

“Sophie? Who the f*** is Sophie?”

“To be honest, sweetie, if I had to choose — it’d be a game time decision.”

“Penny! OMG! You’d choose Penny?!”

“Honestly, I have no idea, sweetie. But if I were you, I’d try to stay on daddy’s good side.”

“Whatever. I forgot how we even got on this topic.”

“Your inability to evade cat shit.”

“I don’t care how you frame it, daddy. I refuse to occupy the same real estate as that malevolent beast. It’s either me or Oscar!”

“Sweetie, I promise, it’ll never happen again. It was my fault to begin with — I accidentally blocked access to Oscar’s litter box.”

“Fine, but he could’ve shat anywhere in the house — he chose my crib!”

“Good point, sweetie. I guess he wanted to send a clear message.”

“Daddy, I’m a reasonable person. I can handle a little civil disobedience — at least Turk has the courtesy to pee in the bathroom — Oscar committed an act of terrorism!”

“Yes, and quite effective!”

“At what — destroying my innocence?”

“It certainly got our attention.”

“Sure! So did the Oklahoma City bombing.”

“You’re comparing Oscar to Timothy McVeigh? And Turk?

“By comparison, Turk is Gandhi.

“Sweetie, I certainly have more sympathy for Turk, but I’m not ready to give up on Oscar. Neither should you. He’s been so sweet with you and Penny. He even tolerates when you yank his tail and grab his fur.”

“Whatever love I had for Oscar was vaporized by his dirty bombs. I now have the bloodlust!

“Bloodlust? Ha! You’re too timid to swat the fake birds hanging from your mobile.”

“Welp, I guess that was the old Clemmy — I now live for revenge, and revenge only.”

“Oh yeah, waddaya got in mind? You know, considering that you’re incapable of locomotion.”

“You really think I’d share my plans with you — a terrorist sympathizer?”

“No sweat off my back, sweetie. I’m sure Oscar is shaking in his boots.

“Oh, I have my ways, daddy.”

“Like what? Enlisting your able-bodied sister?

“A co-conspirator? I might as well turn myself right in to the authorities. Accomplices are just rats in waiting. I work alone!”

“Sweetie, every great scheme involves accomplices. You can be the mastermind, but you still need a tech expert, a con-artist, a grease man, an explosives…”

“Daddy, I’ve seen Ocean’s Eleven. Let me repeat — I! Work! Alone!

“Ok, sweetie. I can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

“I’m sorry, daddy, but this isn’t for your entertainment. The WEVOLUTION will not be televised.”

“Wevolution? Well, that just sounds adorable.”

“You know, daddy, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world SHE didn’t exist.”

1 thought on “Cat’s Shit in the Cradle

  1. Great

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