Mainly pertaining to cats' bottoms, but also some other stuff.

There is a kitten nibbling at my toes as I type this.  It’s not altogether unpleasant – think fish-spa type thing (wait until the Boy finds out – he loved the fish-spa) – but it’s a bit disconcerting (or even just plain disgusting) when you know that one of the kittens has got an explosive-arse problem, and no doubt licks that arse (as cats are wont to do), and so there’s a 1 in 2 chance that that very same mouth is now spreading its revolting germs all over your toes. (Having said that, both cats have been plonking their bare arses down on surfaces throughout the house all day, and will continue to do so for the next TWENTY YEARS, so I probably need to make my peace with this.)

Today’s highlights:

It was sunny and haze-free (not to be taken for granted)

David Sedaris on audio cd in the car.

Today’s not highlights:

BRACES.  They didn’t hurt at first and so I started to feel all what’s-the-big-deal smug, but then they stared to niggle and feel a bit... sore.  And now – GODALMIGHTY!  No wonder teenagers hate their parents.  Also, the Baby refuses to kiss, or be kissed by, me.

HUNGER.  I keep forgetting that I am wearing the dental version of a full metal jacket,  and hovering around the kitchen (am "working" from home) grabbing handfuls of nuts and crisps, only to remember as the food hits the wire (ouchouchouch) that ALL HARD FOOD IS FORBIDDEN.  Hard food seems to be defined as “everything you usually eat”, and so, with a breakfast smoothie, some yoghurt, and many many bowls of wholly inadequate soup inside me, I am going to bed feeling like I’m on the 5:2 diet. 

Wiping away cat shit which *somecat* managed to spray on the bathroom wall.  (On the plus side, I quite like the smell of Dettol.  Also, the cats do not, which amuses me greatly.)

$315 for 7 kiddie-gym lessons.  I think Singapore needs an uprising of sorts. 

Working from home with kittens in the house - a bit like working from home with a toddler in the house.  Long worrying silences followed by a crash and a shriek, and then more silences.  And then you go to investigate and end up spending 45 minutes taking some photos or wiping a bum (yes.  I am becoming Crazy Cat Lady), all the while talking in an odd, falsetto voice.  I THOUGHT I HAD LEFT THIS MADNESS BEHIND. 

BRACES.  I know we’ve already covered this, but the discomfort is enormous.  I need some consoling or reassurance please.   (At the very least that paying someone to glue carpenter’s nails onto my teeth wasn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had.)  (That honour probably goes to the clever "Let’s Get Cats!" notion.)