I very nearly played a spirited game of “Punt-a-Cat” on Friday night.
Ok. So here’s the scenario. My Wife was feeling a little tired, so she decided to take a little nap after work. “Wake me around 9” she said.
So I went to geek out a bit (short version: neither of the house PC’s will run Windows XP), then decided to head into the bedroom with a bottle of wine and two glasses. I snuck around all quiet like, stocking feet and all, down to the cellar and back. I opened the bottle in complete silence, crept down the hall, avoiding all squeeky floorboards.
And then, in the bedroom doorway, I stepped in cat puke.
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