We all got up a few mornings ago to a really rotten reek from somewhere. Okay - the men were up at the time, but even they couldn't be blamed for such a wiff. We eventually tracked it down to behind the television, which stands on the extended brick fireplace (which I HATE!) but nothing seemed to be there to account for it. Then it struck me. The cat had squeezed down the back where there's a hole for plugs ect - and shit under there!
He's a very old cat, you see, and I hate him out over night. Both my cat's are house trained, and I wouldn't tolerate a litter tray in my house, but over winter the older one has very occasionally shit in the bath before rather than face the cruel Scottish nights. Some dunderheid had forgotten to leave the living room door ajar for him, so I take it he felt he had no other choice. Anyhow, it was a fabulous morning, grumpy men getting ready for work, college and school, and having to unplug and lift telly and DVD's, consoles and timber ect, so as I could reach it. I mean, I was having to clean the ruddy shit itself and I didn't moan in the least! So problem solved.
As they were spraying and lashing on extra lotions and potions, in case the cat shit had tainted their clothes or hair - God Forbid - I stood shaking my head. But I now realised how fussy men can be. There was a time when I used to walk through shops with THEM smelling of shit, (husband excluded) for God's sakes - nappies bulging with the stuff and I cared not a jot until we reached home. But the experience did make me more aware that I needed to stock up on smellies for them.
I'm extremely lucky in that I've got a wonderful Avon rep, who at Xmas buys in stuff from the catalogue on my behalf and saving me a fortune. Mind you, when it comes to McScrooge (new readers: I'm referring to the husband here) he thinks all perfumes smell like soap, so why I don't just scrape a bar of carbolic over my G-spots, I don't know! Somehow, I like the more traditional styling of eau de parfum. Mind you, that's one Xmas pressie sorted now.
But I'm not slagging all men's senses. Some have very trained nostrils. It's other senses in men I worry about. I can recall reading in a surgery magazine somewhere, that a bloke was missing home and for a cheer-him-up over the phone, his wife asked him to take a sniff as she had his favourite muffins in the oven. When he told her he couldn't smell them as the phone wasn't in the kitchen, he then put the phone down on her. That's the kind of thing, I will sniff at exception to. Can anyone really be so thick? I doubt it. Guess, I'm just happy to be walking around smelling of soap-in-a-bottle.
5 comments:
cats pooing - it never gets any better. I thankfully, don't have one, but I hear my friends stories of their cats (poo almost always included), and I doubt I will be getting one in the near future (allgeries not being included in reasons!).
Boys and smells are equally as mystifying to me. Why do they dose on aftershave/ lynx like its the last chance they may have to wear the stuff, but don't seem to be affected by the sheer quantity of the smell? I would say they had crap senses if it wasnt for the fact that they are spookily highly tuned in to smells like burning food, and any other distasteful smell around! Mind boggling!
There are worse things to smell like than soap in a bottle. That's for sure!
Sometimes I wish I didn't have such a keen sense of smell. :-P
At least you men haven't started crapping in strange places too. Chin up, there's always a bright side!
Shitty kitty.
You can get nice domed kitty boxes now and with that clumping kitty litter bobs-your-uncle -- off you go in perfumed kitty bliss.
Cat's... Ugh.
We have 4, and not one of them I brough into the house. I tell her we are just 16 away from her being the "crazy cat lady". Just because I think 20 is the magic number for that title.
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