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Payback is hell

December 11, 2012

The cats exact their revenge

When we last left the feisty felines, they were dancing the night away to the theme from Cabaret. The other day I caught the girls singing, in their shrill little voices, “The Cell Block Tango” from Chicago:

She had it comin’, she had it comin’,

She had it comin’ all along

Except, instead of hissing “Cicero!” they spit “Polyurethane!” which is a lot harder for a cat to pronounce than Cicero.

Strange, yes, but I’d forgotten about it by the time we went to bed. I fluffed and turned my pillow and slipped between the sheets … and caught a strong whiff of … cat pee. I flipped the pillow back over and it was soaked. Gross, you’re thinking? Yep, and damned inconvenient, too, having to get up and strip the bed and start the washer at 11:45 p.m.

I know cats live stressful lives, fraught with angst about their social status, perceived slights from other cats, and changes to their delicately crafted routines. I get that. But peeing on mom’s pillow?? Because she turned their Kit-Cat Room into a paint booth? The perp is still at large, although I’ve pretty much absolved anyone who regularly sleeps on the bed (Eric and the boy cats). Lucky for them they’re so cute, otherwise they’d be living on the streets.

When you live with seven cats, you don’t get much sympathy when things go cattywampus. Yes, seven is too many, but then again, they make an awesome chorus line.

kitty toes

And the paint goes on … and on and on …

I like to think I know a thing or two about painting. I even painted semi-professionally for a while, before my bifocals made it a pain. So after finishing Carcass No. 1’s interior, I was looking forward to slapping a coat of Chef White on the exterior. I had a half gallon of Chef White left over from the bathroom project a few years ago, and, since it seemed in decent shape, I decided to be thrifty and use it up before opening a fresh can. The painting process went something like this:

  1. Sand—a lot.
  2. Prime. Grain raises, not unexpectedly.
  3. Cuss.
  4. Sand.
  5. Prime again.
  6. Paint.
  7. Paint second coat. Not smooth enough.
  8. Cuss.
  9. Paint third coat.
  10. Cuss.

I’m resigned to the sanding, but I was hoping to cut down on the cussing, so I consulted an online paint forum, looking for the secret to a silky-smooth finish. (Yes, I’m that obsessed with this project—I actually read online paint forums). Apparently a paint additive called Floetrol was to be my salvation. I scurried to the box store to buy me some. Back in the lab, I mixed a little Floetrol with the paint and applied the third coat … but the brushed dragged and the paint felt gummy. @#$%^!!! In the time it took to add more Floetrol (hoping I was going in the right direction), what I’d already applied turned gummier yet. I couldn’t go back over it to correct the tacky portion, so I quickly painted the rest of the carcass, which seemed to turn out okay—and with the smoother finish that I’d hoped for. But dammit, now I have to sand and repair one end of the cabinet, all because I wanted to use up a can of $35 paint. I am NOT happy. The cocky painter is humbled … no, I’m pissed.  I almost feel like peeing on someone’s bed.

slumber party

 

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From → Kitchen

4 Comments
  1. Parrott, Gregory permalink

    -Perp still at large: have you considered DNA testing?

    -Carcass: hate that word. It evokes an image of rotting road kill covered in maggots. Much worse than cat pee!

    -Your painting obsession: maybe the paint is fine and your hands are rough? Or, just look at it and don’t touch it!

    -Floetrol: never heard of that making paint gummy – it’s supposed to do the opposite. Do you know what caused that? Are you using semi-gloss latex?

    -Does a cat pee on a bed for revenge or convenience? (you’d be looking for either an angry cat or a lazy cat as the culprit)

    • If I have to be patient while the carcasses turn into cabinets, so do you. Yes, there is something distastefully inappropriate about the word “carcass” juxtaposed with “kitchen.” That’s what makes it so much fun! There’s also something distasteful about “litter box” juxtaposed with kitchen … what can I say?

  2. Tom and Judy Huppert permalink

    Peeing on your pillow was bad, but wait until one of the elderly kitties forgets where it is and pees on your head. That happed to me a few years back, and of course it was in the middle of the night. Good luck with the sticky end of the board. Me, I would have thrown a fit and tossed it out the door. My patience leaves a great deal to be desired, as I grow older. Love, Judy

    • And when the kitties become old and incontinent, we love them just the same, right? I can only hope I will be so fortunate someday when I am in that condition!

      Eric is doing such a great job on the cabinets, I don’t dare screw up the finish process! No pressure!!

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