Doesn't Stand a Chance

Between me being a puke baby and Cody being sympathetic puker, Case doesn’t stand a chance for having a cast iron stomach. This morning I woke up feeling queasy and of course, of all days, the cat had been sick on the floor. Case informed me there were “ickies” on the floor and the “mess” needed to be “cleaned.” However I just couldn’t handle cleaning up cat puke at 6 am so I took a paper towel and covered it up so the sight would not disturb the OCD in my tiny mans nature and then I went to lay on the couch. However a moment or two later I heard him coughing and gaging. Apparently he had tried to pick up the mess with the paper towel and underestimated how gross puke can be. The poor guys eyes were all red, he was coughing and gagging all at the same time. Even in my own agony I couldn’t help but laugh. He seemed so close to puking that I picked him up and put him in the kitchen to avoid puke on the carpet. The entire time I was thinking to myself, oh my gosh, between cat puke, Case puke and my queasy stomach, there is no way I’m not going to make it out of this situation without hurling. He didn’t puke (thank goodness) and neither did I, but what a way to start the morning.