Bad morning...

By J. D. Meisner

 

Some mornings just don't go well and last Monday was no exception. We were getting ourselves ready for Wife's first day of state capitol siege duty (she is an underpaid, under-appreciated teacher in Oklahoma and I was going with her to offer my support in her march on the legislature).

The alarm sounded and I was stumbling over to the coffee machine when I felt something warm and moist soaking through my right sock and up between my toes. Apprehensively, I looked down and my worst fears were confirmed. Our old momma cat had just yacked up her breakfast on the kitchen rug and my right foot had found it. I got that cleaned up, put on a new pair of socks and prepared to feed and water my animals. I rummaged through the refrigerator in search of anything that might be questionable for human consumption, so that I might feed it to the yard birds (they literally eat anything). I found some old spaghetti noodles that had a slight funk to them and some sauce that was... well... fuzzy.

 

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