"I poopin'!"
The good news is that we have hard wood floors in our bedroom. That's a very exciting fact to learn, while cleaning up the third household flood in three years.
Unfortunately, I can't blame this one on the cats - in fact they helped me discover it. After we... um, I... inadvertently locked them in our bedroom all day, I figured it would be in my best interest to scout for cat pee. Which is when I discovered Lake Michigan, Jr. in our closet, courtesy of a faulty air conditioner.
Of course, I didn't realize it was the A/C at first and was extremely impressed (and saddened) by the cats' bladder capacities. Once I realized that it was "only" water, I fell back into that comfortable clean-up routine. I've spent the last 2 days ripping up carpet. And drilling out drywall. Again. Good times.
While I've been doing this, Finn has continued practicing his potty skills. He's gotten so good at it that I've only had to change one poopy diaper all week and that's because I took him on a long walk sans porta-potty. He's very good at announcing his bodily functions from the can as they're happening, and very eager to help empty his little potty container into the toilet.
This last part terrifies me, because he won't let me help guide the package home to its rightful place. And he doesn't really have the steadiest hands.
Unfortunately, my fears were realized yesterday as I watched an entire container of poop water gleefully dumped on the bathroom floor. I couldn't help but yell, which made him cry, which made me feel bad. We ended with a nice constructive talk about how it's bad to pour your toilet water on the floor, which was nice, but in the end, there's not enough Lysol in the city to make me feel good about that bathroom floor again.
I'll take another cat flood any day.
Unfortunately, I can't blame this one on the cats - in fact they helped me discover it. After we... um, I... inadvertently locked them in our bedroom all day, I figured it would be in my best interest to scout for cat pee. Which is when I discovered Lake Michigan, Jr. in our closet, courtesy of a faulty air conditioner.
Of course, I didn't realize it was the A/C at first and was extremely impressed (and saddened) by the cats' bladder capacities. Once I realized that it was "only" water, I fell back into that comfortable clean-up routine. I've spent the last 2 days ripping up carpet. And drilling out drywall. Again. Good times.
While I've been doing this, Finn has continued practicing his potty skills. He's gotten so good at it that I've only had to change one poopy diaper all week and that's because I took him on a long walk sans porta-potty. He's very good at announcing his bodily functions from the can as they're happening, and very eager to help empty his little potty container into the toilet.
This last part terrifies me, because he won't let me help guide the package home to its rightful place. And he doesn't really have the steadiest hands.
Unfortunately, my fears were realized yesterday as I watched an entire container of poop water gleefully dumped on the bathroom floor. I couldn't help but yell, which made him cry, which made me feel bad. We ended with a nice constructive talk about how it's bad to pour your toilet water on the floor, which was nice, but in the end, there's not enough Lysol in the city to make me feel good about that bathroom floor again.
I'll take another cat flood any day.
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