Setting:
In my shower, there is a scrubby which hangs on the shower rack at the ready to clean people. On the small seat below, sits another demoted scrubby in moderate disrepair. It slumps at the ready to clean showers. (Very good at removing calcium deposits, as it turns out.)
Exhibit A: Bath Scrubby
I consider myself a reasonable woman under most circumstances.
Everyone has limits, however.
There is some kind of cat party going on in yard. I don’t understand it. One night earlier this week, a cat was hollering outside. Shawn and I counted our fuzzballs and found them both, safe, whole, and accounted for. The howling continued. Shawn poked around outside looking for the source. It turned out to be a brown tabby who set up camp on our back door mat and refused to leave. I’m serious. I could look out the back door right now and odds are 50/50 that he’d be there. I half expect him to look up at me and say, “Nevermore!”
My lawn and my neighbor's lawn were the last two on the block that hadn't been mowed since the spring weather started. The rest of the neighborhood was clean and trim, with freshly planted pansies and petunias. Our yards had become foot high jungles housing creatures from the black lagoon. Today a three-foot long garden snake wove his way through the thicket and slithered right up to my husband. No joke.
It was clearly time to deal with this situation before the neighbors banded together and cordoned off our yards with police tape.
