Lee has found a way to make a very simple function into a passion. Counting.
1, 2, 3, 4...
My girlfriend wanted a kitten, so now I own a kitten. This was brought up in casual conversation on Saturday. It became a serious conversation on Sunday and I believe I was quoted as saying "no way in hell are we getting a kitten." Monday night, at ten oclock, I was standing in line at Wal Mart admiring the staggering amount of incestual couples and holding a cat carrier, bowls, food, and an array of toys hand built by a three year old in Taiwan. I have a kitten.
If any of you reading this are from the Omaha area you should be familiar with Alpine Inn. It's a total dive down by the river that serves some awesome fryed chicken. They also sample this award winning chicken to the native raccoons and cats. Apparently, my girlfriend's mother's best friend's second cousin's dog's first owner's roomate was at Alpine Inn when the absolutely fell in love with a tiny newborn kitten chowing down on a chicken leg bigger than it's body. Intead of saying "oh how cute" and returning home like any sensible person, she took the cat. This momentary lapse of judgement put into a set of events that would forever change my life.
So multiple phone calls were made and word got through to my girlfriend that there was an adorable kitten just waiting for her love. Before even seeing what he looked like, Blaire was in love with him. I knew on the way to look at the rotten bastard we were going home with him. This cat could be one notch above a Mexican sewer rat and he was going home with us. No stopping this ball from rolling. Sure enough we get there and he's cute as can be. Go figure...
To try to make a short story longer (or whatever) here's the quick ending. For two nights in a row, I have awoken at three a.m. to a kitten chewing on my fingers. Thank god I sleep with my boxers on. There's poop in my carpet, urine in my laundry, and he won't stop downloading porn. But after all is said and done, we have a new kitten named Wallace. And I like him.