Mom was off galavanting about the countryside this weekend doing an adult weekend with that noisy wine guy, basically leaving me to my own devices.
I was a good boy most of the time just guarding the house and making sure nobody came in and stole anything important like my toys or my favorite pillow to sleep on; which also happens to be her pillow but don't tell her, OK? She just came home and told me she had a really nice weekend and was telling me about all the pretty things she saw and how nice her days and how fantastic her nights were. Frankly, listening about her weekend with stupid Champagne guy bored me.
What I really wanted to tell her was about the only night I got into any trouble. It was the night the town we live in decided to set off all their fireworks about three blocks from where we live. I would have been OK with a little fireworks; especially those because professionals put them on and they are far enough up in the sky they don't make too much noise and I'll bet they even look kind of pretty over Long Island Sound.
But, in Connecticut, they also let any idiot over eighteen buy fireworks to set off in their own backyard! So, the people around us decided to join in fun and set off fireworks almost all night and for most of the weekend, including a bit ago when Mom got home in the middle of the afternoon when you can't even see anything!
Well, the other night, enough was enough and I jumped up on the dressing table in Mom's bedroom, knocking off onto the floor Mom's jewelery box and breaking off the front door that holds the necklaces. She wasn't mad when she saw it when she came home because she knows I was scared and I don't normally get up on that piece of furniture. The only thing she is a bit mad about is she can't find a few ear rings and one bracelet. I know where the bracelet is because I batted it under the bed but I'm not telling Mom because I'm still a bit miffed she went off with that guy for most of the weekend.
I think I'm going to ask Mom to write to her local representative to see if they can outlaw the private sale and setting off of fireworks like they do in Massachusetts. I think fireworks are dangerous especially when in the hands of people like the drunken fools behind us who also seem to think I want to hear their music and yippy little dog barking morning, day, and night. Mom's friend Peabody agrees with me about fireworks too and she doesn't really like the Fourth of July holiday either, just like me. She also has a pretty funny story today on her blog about some dufus who obviously should go back to 3rd Grade civics/history and stay there until he can pass a basic citizenship test. Mom was laughing about that when she read Peabody's post when she got home this afternoon.
The story also made Mom shake her head saying that what was so sad about that story is that the same person will go vote in November and help decide who will be the next President of the United States and then she ranted on to me that it was this type of person that put the numnut who is in the White House right now in charge of the country because he would be fun to have a beer with instead of having a brain. I don't understand politics and anyways, I can't vote because I'm a cat. But I sure like to watch Mom get all riled up about that type of stuff.
She needs a scratching pole. When I get really upset or angry about something, like not getting my food in my bowl on time, I just go get on my scratching pole.
After a few minutes, I feel lots better.
Sher, Laura, and a peeing computer ruining squirrel of "What Did You Eat?" are hosting Weekend Cat Blogging this weekend. To see how all my friends spent their weekend head over there.
And all I can say about this whole past weekend is Mom better have brought me a new toy or something from her weekend with wine-cork popping boy because if she didn't, I'm going to be spending a lot of time on my pole this week...
