The other morning my date and I woke up in our typical brain-dead states.
As per usual, Mr. Perfect leapt out of bed, made me a cup of tea and came back to our bedroom with the newspaper, my tea and his coffee.
Then as per usual, he went into the bathroom to shave.
I opened one eye.
Then shut it again. I had remembered a particularly annoying patient who was coming to the office that day.
But in the short time it took to perform that avoidance maneuver, something caught my eye and registered in my brain.
There was something on the carpet. And that something looked like a small cat turd.
We have a rule in our house that whoever sees the errant (insert item here: turd, vomit, etc.) shall clean it up. So under the guise I had not yet opened my eyes I called for my date to bring me a section of the newspaper. Being the sweetheart he is, he obliged.
As he came into the room he exclaimed, "What's that?"
I said, "What?"
He pointed to the item on the rug. I opened my eyes and leaned over the side of the bed and opined that it looked like a cat turd.
We wondered who would have done such a thing as none of our boys has ever done that before. I blamed Josephine, the Boston terrier who loves nothing more than a stolen snack from the cat box. My date hotly denied that possibility, defending his best girl against my accusation.
I am slightly nearsighted so I cannot see details from afar.
My date is slightly farsighted so he cannot see details up close.
At our respective positions, neither one of us could identify the foreign object. There was silence. Then he got a piece of toilet paper and picked up the object. He held it out to me and said, "Look!"
I saw two beady little eyes, a pointed nose and well, not much else. It was the head of a mouse. I laughed and asked my date where he thought the rest of it was.
He has a favorite cat who is our great grey hunter. My date proudly gave credit for the kill to this cat, Cooper.
The mouse head was dispatched down the toilet and the morning went on as usual.
