Fightin' Mad

This is a special post. A very special post. You will most likely find this fun, funny, hilarious, great, awesome, entertaining, wowing, etc. I, however, do not share those same feelings at this time. I am not sure that I have any idea when I will be able to share those feelings. Probably not as soon as I usually can share in those feelings after an "entertaining post event."

I cooked lunch for the cowboys today. They were preg checking cows, weaning and vaccinating calves. Since I knew this weekend that I would be in Billings all day Monday I decided to do my food prep on Sunday afternoon. Today all I had to do was stick stuff in the oven and frost the cake I made. I got the cake all frosted and pushed it back into the corner of the counter.

Later after showering I came upstairs to find that "someone" is tall enough to swipe their little fingers across cakes pushed into the corner of the counter.

This wasn't a big deal. It made me smile. I did a "quick fix" on it and we teased the vet that he would get the piece that The Prairie Kid got into (that would have been one big piece!)

So when I got home from the barn I had dishes to conquer. I thought that The Prairie Kid was outside with the dog. I didn't hear him playing inside. After I finished some of my dishes I went outside but didn't see him anywhere. I came in the house and hollered for him. No response. I knew he hadn't taken off again cause his boots were in the mudroom.

I went downstairs to find him and his bedroom light was on but I couldn't see him in there. I did find something suspicious on the floor though. Watch this video to see what I found...

Yep, that is toothpaste. A LOT of toothpaste. Smeared well into the recently cleaned carpet.

I realized The Prairie Kid was hiding in his house. I asked him calmly, "where is the toothpaste tube?"

"In your room."

Here, go on another video adventure with me....

After I calmly took my video I got angry. Angry that I would now have to figure out how the heck to clean up all this mess. I believe in kids solving their own problems but a 3 year old cannot take care of a mess of this magnitude.

I don't get mad, truly mad, very often. Thank God for His grace. And thank God for this blog, because I seriously saved my child extra wrath and preserved clean language in my thoughts by focusing on how I could present this stuff on my blog versus smoldering in thoughts about the incident.

I disciplined The Prairie Kid and made darn sure he knew not to move from the couch. I then Googled "how to get toothpaste out of hair" and was disappointed that there weren't brilliant answers to my inquiry. I went downstairs and smothered the carpet spots with carpet cleaner and went to get Fluffy.

Poor Fluffy. Not only is she not meant to mingle with toothpaste, she is not meant to bathe. I locked her and I together bravely in the bathroom and wrestled her like I've never wrestled before. It wasn't a pretty sight. If someone were around to video tape it I would have either won America's Funniest Home Videos or been arrested for animal cruelty. I have never given a cat a bath before in my life and I hope to never have to do it again. The noises coming out of her were wretched (and I made sure to go out and see that The Prairie Kid was listening to what he caused his poor kitty to suffer).

After the torture I let Fluffy hang out in the bathroom to dry off a bit. Poor Fluffy....

I put The Prairie Kid right to bed. And I made it clear I didn't want to hear a peep from him. I have never been this upset at my child. Thankfully, after a good nap time for him, a break and time with Abba Father for me, and a glass of wine I was feeling better.

Until.

The dog was in the house for a little while. I forgot that he was in when I went downstairs to check on Fluffy, who was allowed to stay in the house and wander around to get dry before going back out. I found her curled up on my bed (oh yeah, did I mention the toothpaste I found on the bed, which led to me having to remove and wash the duvet, change the sheets, scrub the carpet and scrub the dust ruffle?). I picked her up to bring her upstairs and put her out and as I exited my bedroom the dog came running for us...for the cat...and she responded with hissing and claws ready for attack. I kicked and shouted at the dog, trying to turn my body from him and get away. He was relentless. RELENTLESS. I kicked him several times (another animal cruelty charge is pending), almost tripped over and ripped my pants, and did what I could to no avail.

The cat freaked out and decided that I was a good target. She not only sunk a claw into my chest but also my shoulder and ripped my shirt! Can you believe this? I let her go, (okay, she repelled off of me with her claws as her anchor) and I grabbed the dog with fury. I whipped the dog upstairs and kenneled him fast. I couldn't retrieve the cat from the nooks of the storage room so she is still there, hours later. The Prairie Daddy took pics of my war wounds to prove I deserve a Purple Heart for Mommies of Prairie Kids and Animals.



The Prairie Daddy is being a single parent right now. He may be that for the rest of the night. I might hide away (in the nooks of the storage room) and feel sorry for myself. : )

Wow. What a day. I think I should go to bed early to reduce the risk of further "cat-astrophe." Hee, hee. I am cracking myself up.

Actually, I am well aware that my troubles are nothing in comparison to the real issues that many suffer with. At least it makes for an entertaining blog!