Littering

I would like to refute recent news reports which say I spend most of my time dreaming up lurid fantasies involving me covered in grape jelly chasing Beyonce naked around a hardware store. I never spend more than, say, 90% of my time that way so don’t think I’m weird or anything. 

Most of my awake hours are spent dreaming about where I’ll put a urinal in my new garden shed. 

In my old garage, I had installed a lovely personal drainage device in a discreet back corner.  It was just a piece of pipe stuck through the wall, but it was a wonder since I didn’t have to leave my shop to relieve myself, it was at my exact height, there was no lid to put down after, no perfumed soap, nothing.  Hygiene freaks are allowed to go “Ewww!” at this point in the narrative.      

This relief tube was installed because before, if I felt the need to go, I’d have to throw sawdust over my head to make it look like I had actually been doing something out there, then head into the house, take off my shoes, receive instructions from my spouse about more things that needed doing, piddle, then reverse the process and go back outside.  It just wasn’t worth it.

With my handy dandy WhizzMate, I could just walk into the corner and go.  I didn’t have to worry about a thing.  Well, other than lurking spiders.  I did fret about those.  Thankfully, spider attacks on my personal thing never happened, although the thought of it has caused more than a little anxiety, lack of sleep, loss of bladder control, and post-traumatic stress. 

I was ruminating on all this recently, since I have a new way of doing my business, you’ll be pleased to know. 

As the slave to two adorable kittens, we now have an abundance of what is called ‘stink.’  We also have a bunch of kitty litter.  As a new cat owner, I was unfamiliar with this wonderful substance.  It not only covers up cat doots, it clumps up when pee hits it.  It’s amazing!

I was cleaning it (the litter) the other day (since the kids had promised they would do it), and I had a wonderful, guy-type idea, which involved one of the kids finding a clump of litter the size of a bowling ball, courtesy me.

This light comedy daydream gave rise to an actual, ingenious idea.  For a change, it did not involve singers, dancers, jelly, power tools or rubber cement.

Here’s the deal.  Waking up in the middle of the night having to go to the bathroom is terribly annoying, as we all know.  Getting out of bed and padding off to the bathroom wakes me up and it is sometimes difficult getting back to sleep.  Ask any cat.

What I do now is flip back the covers and just let fly over the side of the bed into my own, personal litter box!  No more stepping on Hot Wheels cars on my way to the bathroom.  No more waking up the house because I stub my toe, or trip over something, or sleepily lift the lid of the laundry hamper instead of the toilet and, well, never mind.    I’m free from all that.

I not only sleep better but in the morning I just scoop my own litter and behold my signature, elegantly written in hardened granules, suitable for framing. 

I’m still getting used to gently spreading the stuff with my feet afterwards, but I’ll get there eventually. 

My wife also reports my purring is still extremely loud, but she does like the smell of grape jelly.