It is drear, dank, drizzly, and dark outside but the temp here in my study has come up two degrees since I flipped the lights on this morning. And that’s without burning a dead dinosaur or a single stick of wood.
So why are my fingers and toes five degrees colder than when I got up.
On one of our few really cold SE Texas mornings last January, I awoke with the pressing urge to get out of bed. I accentuate “pressing” because a 12-pound cat was lounging comfortably on the area of my anatomy that houses my bladder.
I withstood the *urge* as long as possible, then moved the cat away and swung barefoot onto the cold, tile floor. I resisted turning on the bedside light and did not see the other cat, whose tail I mashed in the dark. The cat let out a frightful yelp, and I turned and stepped off into a deep void.
Yes — as they say in hospital talk — I had voided on the floor and stepped in it.
— George