Happy birthday, Maddie!

Today is a special day. In fact, it is the birthday of the inspiration behind this very odd blog. Today, my little sister turns seventeen years old. (Yeeup, feeling pretty old right about now.) It's pretty tough to believe the munchkin only has one year left of enjoying the lack of responsibility that comes with being a minor. (Committing crimes just isn't as much fun when you know you'll get charged as an adult).

I'm sure you're all peeing yourselves with anticipation to know just how she began her last year of underage breakfast-eating. Try to control your bladders, people. She didn't even make herself a breakfast today.

Nope, she didn't create a morning food masterpiece because I took care of going to that trouble for her. I actually made her a grilled cheese sandwich. Although I will probably never be able to create something as special as her "really good grilled cheese", she did give it the Maddie Dawson thumbs-up of approval. The fact that she didn't have to make the sandwich herself probably made it taste that much better.

Any semi-regular follower of this blog will know that I typically would not have participated in this sort of breakfast shenanigan, but one has gotta make an exception for a crazy little sister on her special day, right? Besides, I still ate my regular yogurt and granola while she munched away on her cheesilicious sammy. There's only so much routine I can disregard at a time.

Anyway, happy birthday to Maddie! Let's hope this next year of her life consists of deliciously strange morning meals full of melted cheese and happiness.

Om nom nom...

Cats.

It has been a while since my last post and with me house sitting away from the fam jam, there has been no breakfast material to write about.

There is however, lots I can write about cats.

The cats I'm taking care of currently are actually pretty normal kitties, if the definition of "normal" is "FLIPPIN' INSANE". I had to deal with cat hurl on the first night after one of them decided to eat the ribbon off of a Christmas present for my Secret Santa recipient at work. There was a foot-long turd waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs when I returned from spending Christmas/Boxing day at home. They think it's funny to flip their water bowls when they're bored and to rub against my legs after I put on lotion. In fact, one of them is trying to eat my hair as I write this blog.

Usually, he only does this ALL THE TIME.

These furballs are lucky I love cats so much. I'm considering this trying time as my training for my future as a crazy cat lady.

I'm definitely halfway to "crazy" already. 

And as nutso as these animals are, I can see their value. This house gets cold and having two 20 pound chunks of body heat curled up on your chest can really warm you up. The extra effort I've got to put forth just to breathe is quite the work out.

Unfortunately, that's all I can write at the moment. I have to go intervene with the cat that is currently trying to make use of his body weight to break into his food tub. Sigh.