Kale is the New Crack

So we have a kitten. Or a meth head reincarnated in a kitten’s body. Actually, he’s not even a kitten anymore. He’s one, but there’s no sight of any sort of relaxing in his personality. This cat is seriously nuts. And I’ve owned a lot of cats. And worked with a lot of cats in my previous life as a veterinary technician. He’s bonkers.

I also can’t have any plants or herbs in the house or he acts as though I’ve delivered a new stash of primo blow just for him. It’s ridiculous the carnage I have discovered in my house upon forgetting to put my loose teas away (yes, I’m a crunchy hippie type, remember? I make my own tea. And various other things that herbs go in, and I don’t just mean cooking. I also mean things like diaper rash cream. That’s right. Herbs for your butt.)

So I wake up this morning and find my face covered in a fine dusting of small green particles. In my sleep addled phase I wonder if I’m turning into a reptile or have contracted some sort of weird disease during my sleep that’s causing my skin to roughen and slough off like a lizard’s. I try to drag myself up from the depths of my exhaustion (not a morning person, remember?) I look at my bed and there’s a destroyed green thing on my pillow, like some kind of tribal offering. Upon closer inspection I discover it is (what remains of) a stalk of kale. Kale? In my bed? At the ungodly hour of 6:30?!! (everything is worse at the ungodly hour. And pretty much every hour is ungodly before like 11am. And I’ve not seen the other side of 11am in almost five years. Again: not a morning person.)

Kale. What the hell?!!

So I get up, doing my best to clean as much of the pulverized leafy vegetable out of my sheets as I can (oh, and did I mention I had literally just changed and washed my sheets the night before for the first time in months?!! Yes. We are dirty people. Or it’s just that every night after I’ve spent the entire day cleaning house, caring for 2 to 5 children, wringing cloth diapers, feeding too many mouths (except my own, I might add) and generally running myself ragged around town that I either a) forget to change them or b) am just too damn tired to care).

Susan has wandered into my room at this point begging to watch the Kindle. I try to shake off as much of my sleepiness (without coffee — see previous post) as I can. Her younger sister, Kathryn, has had surgery less than a week before and in my stressed out, overwhelmed, tired ass haze I’ve relied far too heavily on screen time for my 3.5 year old. (We typically try to do 1/2 a week. This past week it’s been like 2-3 hours a day. Epic Mama fail). So I try to wake myself up and drag myself downstairs to engage my child in some sort of two way quality mama daughter time over breakfast before her sick, squalling infant sister wakes up. As I leave my master bedroom I see a trail of little green particles…and leaves, and stalks out the door.

What the fuck?

Yup. The entire route from the bedroom, down the hallway, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is a veritable massacre of kale. This cat had some seriously hate crime vibes going down on this healthy, chock full of vitamin K vegetable. I mean, seriously, there are green, smeared cat prints on the walls. And just in case your wondering, cat paws + kale = green stains that require entirely too much elbow grease to scrub out. For reals.

And in the middle of the living room is a big pile of green cat vomit, that reeks of partially digested kale. You can seriously see the stink lines and flies surrounding it. The damn cat couldn’t have bothered to vomit in the kitchen where it might have been easy to clean and not stained. Nope, right in the middle of our play area carpeted room. Awesome-sauce. I should also mention that the struggle in needing to subdue this awesome smoothie ingredient (how else do you sneak veggies into your kids without telling them they are having a milkshake?? Seriously. I do have SOME standards) the cat has wreaked havoc throughout the entire house. Toys, books, a lamp, all cluster fuckified throughout the entire house. There’s even evidence that he tried to break into the bathroom (claw marks and streaks–so maybe he did try to do the polite thing and vomit in the toilet bowl?). *sigh* This is why I should never bother cleaning my house ever again.

So, just another day in the life of me. Cleaning up green cat vomit, picking up the same toys I’ve literally put away less than twelve hours ago, and trying to amuse my kid without throwing the Kindle at her head just to shut her up. And I’ve only been awake for about 13 minutes. Happy Wednesday!

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One thought on “Kale is the New Crack

  1. Pingback: No Boob Required | Parenting, By the Seat of my Pants...

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