My mother would squeal with glee.

I have made a decision. It is time to stop taking The Pill. I have not yet told The Boy, so shhhh... I think he may have a sneaking suspicion but let's not tell him until we have to, shall we?

Why have I come to this decision, you ask? For one simple reason. Having a baby is the only way to rid our dwelling (if only temporarily) of The Cats without The Guilt or The Guilt Trips. It is the only legitimate reason to pawn the dirty animals off on family members until The Child is decently grown.

In the spirit of the just-passed holiday of Festivus, here is my list of grievances:

• Pooping indoors. Yes, we humans poop indoors, but not habitually for our entire lives. We also try not to poop on walls or floors.
• Cat butts. Dirty. Dingleberries stuck to the carpets.
  
• Starving cats. At all hours. Every day.
• Cat hair. It contains mysterious sticky substance in it that, once it gets on pants, shirts, blankets (insert chosen textile here), it is nearly impossible to remove. It just curls up in little dirty rotten cat-hair balls.
• Meowing. Incessantly. At all hours. Every day.
• Litter Boxes. I do not want to touch them. This creates strife when The Boy is tired/not feeling well/irritated/(insert excuse here) and does not want to clean them.
• Fights. Every squabble has involved, at some level, The Cats.
• Garbage cans. THEY KNOCK OVER THE GARBAGE AND SPREAD IT AROUND THE HOUSE. Not some flimsy plastic can with no lid, no sir, they knock over the stainless steel pedal-lid version.
• Sick fucks. They are sick fucks who like to hump each other in wide view of neighbors. Suck. Fucks. I cannot stress this point enough.
• Doggies. The Cats taunt them. They get near them and then get pissed off when the dogs want to play.
• Early mornings. Incessant Meowing (see #4). Waking up the puppy, who then wakes up the big dog, both of whom need to be walked and fed, all just an hour before my alarm goes off.
• Fatasses. Cats should not weigh 23 pounds. Or 19 pounds, even. Gross.

As you can see, the list is long and varied. There may be one small part of me, however, the part that has a shred of compassion and decency, that will not allow The Cats to be given up and that may care about them, a wee, tiny bit. That is why I need something like The Child to help justify the banishing of The Dirty Rotten Awful Cats. Why couldn't they be normal and cat-like? Keeping to themselves, cleaning their own butts, eating their own food and staying out of things. Seriously.