Last night I saw Earth Wind & Fire in concert. They performed at a local outdoor theater that my husband happens to work at. I had a grand time, but this grand time involved too much wine (surprised?) and this morning I felt a tad muddle-brained. It was hard not to drink too much. My husband kept bringing me glasses of wine, on the house. There were times when I had not finished my glass and another one magically appeared. By the time my head hit the pillow last night, I was officially three sheets to the wind.

Enter Sunday morning where my daughter needs to go shopping for pants, the laundry needs folding, pancakes need to be griddled and the garage needs cleaning. And here I am all muddle headed for no good reason.

I think I have just decided that drinking is stupid.

While fruitlessly shopping for pants (daughter claims nothing fits comfortably) hubby calls my cell. This is a frequent occurrence – I go shopping and hubby makes a series of highly annoying phone calls reminding me to buy this or that or the other thing. I  hate getting phone calls while shopping. For one, I hate when people gab on cell phones in public, especially in stores. Two, I have no pad or pen to write down these newly necessary items which means I have to then zip around the store gathering these things lest they slip my mind.

A few of those calls came while we were at the store today. Riiiiiing! Buy Port Wine cheese. click. Riiiiing! Buy Windex. click. Annoying to say the least. Then, while we are in the changing room trying on our 8th pair of pants the phone rings again. This call had nothing to do with food or cleaners – it was far more sinister than that.

Seems one of our cats got into something smelly and sticky – most likely some form of fecal matter. She would need a bath, and I was to pick up baby shampoo. The smelly cat was locked in the bathroom, adding to my sense of urgency to get home. My leisurely trip to the store vanished.

I don’t shop well when I’m panicked or distracted. This is why I hate when I get phone calls while shopping. I need total concentration. Filled with a sense of urgency, I whipped around the store buying things in a pell-mell fashion and quickly headed home.

Upon my arrival I put my hair up, rolled my sleeves and got a bucket. I’ve never washed a cat before. She wasn’t happy being in the tub. I wasn’t happy having to handle her with shit matted in her fur. She scrambled and clawed in an attempt to escape the tub, but I held her firmly by the neck and crooned sweet nothings to her while I wetted her down, shampooed and tried to rinse her.

Discovery – Baby shampoo takes a looooooong time to rinse out of fur.

As I kissed her head and washed her fur, she was pretty good. She freaked out and scrambled when we had to turn the water on at one point, but she never bit us or tried to scratch. She was a good kitty and took her cleaning as well as could be expected. After a vigorous towel-drying we let her out on the porch and fed her a multitude of well-earned kitty treats. Our other cat, not wanting to miss out on the action, had a couple as well.

So here it is Sunday, and I’ve been to the store. Yet my kids have no stuff for lunch next week, and neither do I. This is why I can’t be distracted while shopping.

Oh, and I forgot the Windex.

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