Adventures in Motherhood - Part I

Meet Hank.

He's a charming little fellow, and a pesky little rascal too. 

He slipped out the door Thursday evening.  And Bo and I couldn't get him to come back in before we went to sleep, so our highly domesticated house cat spent a night out in the great outdoors.  Fortunately he came home some time in the middle of the night.  He quickly disappeared into my closet where he hid all day.  I saw him for the first time at 4:30 p.m. and noticed that his left eye was swollen shut.  After calling Bo to discuss his condition, we decided that he needed to be seen by the vet before the weekend.  So in a mad dash, I loaded up Hank the Tank and Monkey McCord in the car - we made it to the vet's office just before they close.

For a split-second, I allowed myself to think that I could handle this motherhood thing pretty well - after all, I managed to maneuver a cat carrier and a car seat carrier with a sleeping infant into Rock Hill Animal Hospital before it closed at a moments notice.  But, that thought of confidence only lasted an instant.  And then the vet walked in the exam room, and McCord woke up.  Hungry.  And cranky.  And he cried

the

whole

time. 

Fortunately, our vet is good natured and very understanding.  He also has a cynical sense of humor, because he chuckled when he told me Hank's cornea was lacerated and he'd need drops in his eye 4 TIMES A DAY.  And did I mention that we just had a newborn?

When we got home, this is what I found - remnants of the graham cracker bag that I left on the kitchen counter in a hurry to make it to the vet.  It was accompanied by little pieces of plastic all around the house.

Here's the guilty culprit.

The cat did it.