There's always a reason

I'm the type of person who strongly believes that whatever happens to you, happens for a reason, and all situations (good or bad), will have a positive outcome at some point either in your life, or someone elses.

A specific incident (and the one that truly defined a moment for me), was this morning. Our two cats, Whiskey and Razz, are DEFINITELY training us for P.A.R.E.N.T.H.O.O.D.

(no, that's not an acronym, I just like punctuation)

The reason I believe this is because I've gone through many situations where I could relate it to raising a child, yet I know you can't just leave your child for a weekend with a bowl full of food and water and expect them to relieve themselves in a box. BUT.... I've been woken up many times during the night to tend to them, I help them re-snuggle in when they aren't comfy, get up extra early sometimes to feed them when they're crying, make sure they're clean, they have food and water, take them to the doctor, and they even crawl up the side of your leg when they want to be held and they'll rest their head on your shoulder like a child would.

TOO. STINKIN'. CUTE.

Not only do I believe God is using this as possibly a "training mechanism" or perhaps to remind me to be patient, but also, episodes of bathroom time aren't to be taken lightly. Specifically bathroom time this morning (for the cats).

I purposely got up early to give myself extra time in getting ready, so I could do some things on the computer.

Well, God had another plan for me. One of the kitties got sick this morning and I ain't talkin' puke.

I was cleaning the litter box and over comes Razz. I stepped aside so he could go, but then realized he was stepping PAST the litter box and away he went. I immediately grabbed him to pull him into the box, in the meantime, poo had gotten on the desk leg, my arm, the litter bag, the litter box itself and the carpet. UGH - seriously?

It was then, that I started my scrubbing. And scrubbing. And scrubbing. I finally get done and figure I'll scrub more before I leave, and notice Razz doing the ol' poop scoot on the floor. really?

So I then clean that spot. Then he's in the bathroom drinking his water and I can still smell that horrible smell. I notice it's on my pajama sleeve. Great. And it just so HAPPENS to be white.

Take it off. I can still smell it. Razz is now up on the bathroom counter by this time, playing with the water from the faucet. I notice that he has it all over his paw and on his back leg. So I take him and wash off his paw and back leg. (Which he loved)

Finished bathing him, then disinfected the counter. By the end, I had about 15 minutes. I hurried up and did what I had to do on the computer but could still. smell. the. poo.

Ran down the stairs, got the heavy duty cleaning stuff and scrubbed away. (all the while, the boyz are discovering how much fun it is to undo the paper towel roll.)

Finally, I believe the spot is clean and line it with other paper towels in case it's used for another "relief effort."

-

I still have my hair, I don't smell like poo, and my clothes match.

Did I pass? Will I be a good parent?