The Flour Shower.
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I know this doesn’t really look like a disaster, so allow me to explain the full extent of the drama that unfolded after I spilled about a cup of flour all over the freaking place:
- There really was was flour all over the freaking place- which is enough of a situation to at least mildly annoy most of us. It was on the counter, in the ridges of the stand mixer, in the cupboard, along the inside edge of the cupboard (really), on the floor, on my jammies, and in my slipper.
- The Younger Cat (whose orange ear can be seen lurking in the corner edge of the photo above) made his move. Always eager to play and be a bugger in general, he traipsed through the flour like it was a snow day. You’ll note the flour-covered paw prints on the floor of the kitchen all over the photo above. The paw prints in the upper right corner, in particular, led into the living room and then onto the black coffee table and then onto the silver side table and then onto the window sill.
- Because The Younger Cat eats anything that he can get his flour-soiled-scavenger-like paws on, he helped himself to the white dust like a coke addict. And then what always happens about 12 minutes after he eats human food happened, like clockwork: he barfed. So not only was I cleaning up flour on the floor and stand mixer and cupboard and all over myself and my slippers, but I was cleaning up cat barf. I think this qualifies as a disaster, don’t you?
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