Saturday Night

Q: What do you get when you mix this body:

...With this brain?


A: An epilogue to this story.

It turns out, whilst I was ranting and raving about whose fault the old poop-in-the-vacuum story was, my cat was busy making a humble girl out of me.

It was 11:30 at night and Rebecca had just pad-pad-padded into our room for a little late-night reassurance. She crawled into bed, I turned over to fall back asleep, and Beau flatly said,"The cat just peed on our comforter". (Our 6-months-new, real-faux-down comforter that was not cheap).

I snuggled deeper into the covers and all three of my pregnancy support pillows, sure that one of us was dream-talking or dream-listening.

Beau shook me. "Seriously", he said.

Mind you, this was about 18 hours after the vacuum, the cat, and I had exchanged words.

So Beau took Rebecca into her room and the two of them fell right asleep. I dragged the comforter out to the living room, got out my expensive spray-on cleaner that guarantees to remove the smell and the stain of specifically cat urine (by the way, it lies), and poured myself a Really Big Bowl of raisin bran for my trouble. I scrubbed and scrubbed the comforter, then I stripped the rest of the bed and started the washing machine. I hissed at the cat when it came near. I was tempted to kick the cat, but I was too busy finishing my cereal. I felt like I had done a pretty darn good job on that comforter and I hung it up to dry. I went to the laundry room to check the wash and I happened to give a cursory glance to the litter box.

That was strange.

There was no litter in the litter box.

There was a plastic liner, nice and neat, and someone smart had put the lid back on, but that same smart person had completely forgotten to fill the box with litter.

Hmmm.

That person was me.

Oops.

I woke Beau back up and dragged him back to bed, and waited until the morning to humbly apologize to him about my smallish mistake. He laughed and told me to take the comforter to the dry cleaners.

I am so blessed.




In other news, this:

has changed my life. And my ruffles. In fact, I am quite embarrassed by my previous attempts at ruffles. A ruffling foot and this tutorial have helped me graduate from novice to intermediate seamstress.

They are so beautiful. I want to cry. The ruffling foot literally does all the work. I did almost nothing. A ruffling foot can make Thomas the Train fabric look designer. I am in love.


And this is what my husband made for me tonight. I love him even more than my ruffling foot.