MondayMe: "Bye honey! See you when you come back Thursday night!"
Her: "I've got the dishwasher on a 4 hour start delay! See you Thursday, don't forget the cat litter!"
Time passes . . . kitty litter boxes fillThursday I arrive home, and failing to monitor the natives, the kitty poop has started a small civilization, fostered an insurrection, and forced out the King Of Poops to live banished on the steps, outside of the womb of the litterbox.
I had no choice but to commit some racial cleansing to eliminate the *ahem* eliminations.
STILL SMELLS HORRIBLY! The lovely wife is SO going to know that I deregulated the kitty litter markets after she left.
What to do, what to do. . . I know! I'll let the cats out! She'll be so concerned they're missing that she won't even mention the awful smell! I should probably open some windows and febreze the place as well.
Mission accomplished!The smell is gone, and I'm picking up the lovely wife from the train station.
We arrive home.
Her: "Is that the same dishwasher load that I left with?"
Me: (rather than relief that the kitty litter incident appears dodged, concern over the SHEER LAZINESS invoked in 3 days of no dishwashing) "Uh, no, it's a second load. I'll empty it tomorrow morning."
Ok strategically this was unsound for multiple reasons. I don't have to lie about this. I can just say "yeah I didn't eat here, I'll do it tomorrow."
Or if I insist on such craven dishonesty, I should at least empty it as soon as she goes to bed, eliminating the evidence.
Or at the VERY LEAST, I should legitimately do it the next morning, rather than waking up late and hearing her emptying it as I'm applying deodorant.
NEVER LET THEM SEE YOU SWEAT!
The biggest tactical error, however, was failing to empty the bottom kitty litter near the newly installed door.
Never let travelling dignitaries near the killing fields. They'll Start Asking Questions.
No kitties were endangered in the writing of this blogpost. They were hurt LONG BEFORE I put this on paper!