My cat ate my underwear

Remember the days when “my dog ate my homework” was used? Well, this morning my cat ate my underwear.

Iggy has a problem with my bare legs anyway. There’s something about the legs that makes her want to attack them. Most of the time she just rubs against my legs and then give them a swat. Maybe the company that makes the body wash and powder puts catnip or catmint in the ‘herbs’ mix.

She gets this look in her eyes and I get the clue. Most of the time I can cut the problem off by putting on my pants or my skirt. She loses interest and goes to lay down.

Not today. Every single time I tried to get into my underwear, she swatted at it and dived for my legs. Until … she grabbed the underwear and rolled around in it for a few minutes.

I put another pair on. She dropped the first and went for the legs. As I tried to put on the skirt, she made a dive for that.

If it weren’t for the coffee, a very funny video sent by a friend, and zucchini bread made by another friend, I would be putting a sign on my door: “Don’t Fuck With Me Today!” However, since that really isn’t appropriate for the office, maybe I should just use Mr. Yucky Face.

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