My parents gave me money for my birthday. Since my sneakers were old, worn, and made my feet/legs/back ache when I wore them, I spent my birthday money on sneakers. Good Saucony sneakers. And with the bit left over, I bought myself two brand new pairs of heavy white socks. The nice kind that feel really fluffy on my feet. They are so white they could make a virgin cry for the purity. I love socks like these. They are too warm for this season, so I washed them and put them in my dresser, all white and pretty, waiting for winter when they can keep my toes warm and cozy.
Goten, in his infiniate kitty wisdom, has found a way to climb behind my dresser, and hop into the bottom drawer, where he naps on my underwear or socks.
I opened up the drawer tonight and the stupid cat barfed in there. And the majority of it landed on the two new pairs of socks. Not the older, worn, socks that I wouldn't care about, noooo, the brand new snowy white ones.
Well, I guess I should just be glad he didn't go after my sneakers. But what is it with that cat and footware of any kind? Last month, he decided to go after my only pair of sandals and ruined one of them.