Last night I heard Pete barfing in the hall. I got up to take care of it so no dogs or babies would step in it (or worse, eat it) in the morning. I went into the bathroom to get a wad of toilet paper to scoop it up with and that is when I had my genius idea: there was an old diaper laying on the floor of the bathroom, one that I took off right before he got into the tub, and one that had minimal damage (hence it laying on the bathroom floor). I then scooped up the cat puke, inserted it into the diaper, and considered myself a genius.

This morning I invented a wacky Laverne and Shirley-esque sitcom plot wherein Larry was to take a Spike poop sample to the doctor for analysis and instead grabbed the cat puke diaper, which would result in many frightening test results and calls to various child protective services agencies because we have been feeding our child Iams. And then at the end of our 22-minute ordeal when everything was resolved we would all laugh while Larry grabbed a handful of it and said, you know, this stuff’s not half bad!

That’s all. Carry on.