But then, today, I realized there really is one itty bitty irritation. You see, cats are, well, loveably self-centered. You’d never ask a cat if the world revolved around him because that would be like asking a great white if he liked the taste of surfer. Duh.
So get this, Cougar, when he was younger, liked to beat me to the toilet. When I would get up to go to the restroom, if he was feeling the need coming on, he’d race me to the bathroom and jump up on the seat and use it before I did. I’d have to stand there and wait. It was amusing at first, but there were those times when I’d, uh, pushed the envelope so to speak, and being one-upped was a little distressing.
And then there’s what just happened. My other cat, Fenix, doesn’t race me to the bathroom but I think when he notices me going it starts up his own metabolism or something, and he realizes he has to go too. A few moments ago, after, um, going, I stood to wipe and before I could pull tissue from roll, Fenix sauntered in and jumped up on the toilet seat. This isn’t the first time he’s done that, and well, standing there, tp in hand, while he does his business is a bit disturbing.
So, why don’t I just close the door? It’s a guy thing, really. It’s like not really necessary when the only one there to offend is, well, not easily offendable. So no, I don’t close the door all the way. And I have this annoying habit of pulling my pants down before I make it to the restroom.
Oh man, there I go again, revealing much more than is prudent!