J rolled out of bed at some horrible unmentionable hour this morning and while contemplating how to end world hunger and stop global warming he stumbled across the hall to the bathroom.. only tripping on 235 toys along the way. Yes, my husband is so brilliantly awesome that his first thoughts in the morning revolve around how he'll spend the day saving the world.. hey, it makes up for the fact that by some time in early afternoon (usually after his work out..) they turn to plots of world domination.
So he groggily steps up to the piss-pot for his morning tinkle, carefully takes aim in his early morning visual haze, and lets loose.. seconds later..
Stunned, he watches as BabyCat comes stampeding into the bathroom and launches himself straight between J's legs, through the stream of urine, and into the toilet.. while J is still going. He quickly realizes that said kitten can not get himself out of the toilet (should have just flushed him.. darn, no more tiny claws scaling my leg!). Still confused by the whole incident, J scoops the kitten out of the toilet and turns on the shower. No, BabyCat does not enjoy cold showers. Oops. J turns the hot water on so as to avoid a case of feline hypothermia and finishes rinsing him off. He then spent a good portion of his morning rubbing him with a towel to get him dry and warm again, wondering what on earth this tiny creature found so appealing about him taking an early morning wiz.. Was it the splashing sound? The manly smell of J's urine - perhaps it awoke the inner lion's desire to dominate? Does he prefer toilets to litter pans and really needed to go (oh, how I wish)? Or did he just really want to have an early morning swim? We may never know..