Of Visitors, cat boxes and linkage.

Ok, so yesterday was "Clean the Cat Boxes Before We All Pass Out or Develop Upper Respiratory Tract Infections Day" over here at my place. These exciting festivities usually happen on a weekend, or in the evening, simply because taking care of Lucas and coating ones hands in cat excrement are not really compatible activities.

All of this to say that the "Clean the Cat Boxes Before We All Pass Out or Develop Upper Respiratory Tract Infections Day" were planned for when my wife got home. All of which is to say that the house stunk like, well, like cat box until around 6ish.

This is called foreshadowing by the way.

So I am sitting at my desk, and a person looks through my window. To do this he must almost go on all fours to look under the stylish bamboo blinds. This happens with a frequency that is a bit frightening. Normally this activity is done by random unsavory strangers. In this case I knock on the window in their face and give them the finger. Rude? Yes. Effective? Quite. In this case I opened the door. Because the window looker was Kelly and his lovely lady friend (do the kids still say that? Did they ever?) Valerie. I had never met her and it was a pleasure beyond all reckoning. Lucas liked her and that is good enough for me.

So, back to the foreshadowing bit. Why do visitors only ever visit when my house stinks like cat piss and looks like large chunks of Toys R Us were fired through the window by cannon? I'm happy to have visitors (especially those that do not require diaper changings and can speak one of the two official languages) but why does this always happen? Is it an extension of Murphy's Law into the social sphere? A side note, Kelly and Valerie were insanely polite and didn't mention the smell, in fact Kelly went so far as to claim there was no smell at all. For this I am grateful.

Speaking of grateful, Kelly has linked to me from his blog. Which means that there exists the chance that more than my 5 closest friends are reading this.

Welcome.

I will endeavor to actually be interesting.