Well, I came upon something else recently. Let me back up and offer a little, teensy-weensy, admission here. I prefer to sleep with socks on. I have my reasons and to go into them now would take up this entire post, and we're here to talk about a feline felony.
So, the other night I wore my socks to bed as usual. At some point it must have gotten a little too warm for my liking, because I apparently - In.My.Sleep - discarded the hoodie I was wearing, and one of my socks. Also, I apparently - In.My.Sleep - tossed both the hoodie and the one sock across the room, landing just in front of the full-length mirror.
The next morning, it was one of THOSE mornings. You know the sort. The alarm either didn't go off or I somehow managed to turn it off without realizing it - In.My.Sleep - thereby creating a domino effect of everyone being late for school, and me late for work. Time for breakfast? Surely, you gest. Nope. The morning was more like me, running around like a chicken with it's head cut off (which incidentally, I've always been curious about. It actually might be a comical sight to see.), calling out names for this child and that child to get their backpacks, brush their teeth, put on deodorant, yadda, yadda, yadda, and meet me in the car.
Obviously, I did not find the additional 30 seconds it probably would have taken for me to pick up the hoodie and sock from the floor and take care of them properly. It just wasn't a priority.
So, that night when I was getting ready for bed, I figured - eh, I'll just wear the same socks and hoodie. Not like it matters, right? They're just jammies and it's not like I'm having any company. (Don't look down on me. I know you wear your jammies more than once before washing too!) Okay, so back to the sock. I reached for the sock and guess what!?!?!? Yup. It was cold and clammy and W-E-T!
I figured the cat just hated my bra! But, now it seems that this is becoming a little more personal. Especially because both kitties are litter-box trained. And especially since they haven't had accidents in the five months we've had them. Looking back, the only change that had occurred has been their little "fix-it" and de-clawing surgeries.
It's a conspiracy. The cats are trying to get back at me for taking away their scratching powers, for stripping them of knowing what is was going to be like to be a mama-cat in heat. If only they would realize it's all for their own good. But that is the only thing I can think of.
Maybe some cat nip is in order... like a peace-offering or something. I've heard it's like weed, for cats. That should be good, right?