The Night I Peed My Pants: A True Story

Last week, I had a mental breakdown. Christmas's always about Christmas presents this time of year. I knew I still needed to do A LOT of shopping, but I was waiting until payday. In order to make myself feel better, I took the presents that I had purchased and moved them from one Target bag to another.

What? It helps. Trust me. I felt oddly better about the whole situation afterwards.

The problem is this: Nico loves plastic bags. They are his crack. Well, plastic bags and chicken. He is SCARY when he gets a piece of chicken...his inner trailer park kitty comes out.

Okay, back to the story.

So, while I was calming my nerves with these gifts and my Target bags, Nico thought I was playing with him. He would run circles around the bed and then fly off and jump at me. Something like this...

I'm the black cat. Duh.

He did it over and over again. Circle the bed...get ready to pounce...and then attack me. I would grab him, throw him back up on the bed, and laugh. Five minutes went by and I was laughing so hard, that I decided I needed to pee before things got ugly. I started to stand up to go to the bathroom (I was kneeling on the floor) and Nico lunged himself at me, and jumped on my head.

I don't know if I was in shock, or if it was his insanely sharp kitty claws, but he knocked me back down to the ground and proceeded to attack me. I couldn't hold it in any longer...I peed. Just a little. But enough.

I couldn't even blame it on alcohol, or a long car ride, or the fear of a public restroom.

I legit peed my pants!

So, how did I get the devil kitty back? First off, I trimmed those damn nails. Then I dressed him like a girl.

He's wearing a dog dress...and I like to think Mr. Snowman is trying to take a peek at his lady bits.