Monday, June 11, 2007


So for two nights in a row now Caroline has been whining, plucking, whining more, plucking more, screeching, shredding the carpet at Mom's door. Last night all this bad behavior finally set off the dreaded IEM–Improvised Explosive Mom!

Caroline got soaked with the water bottle.


  1. Uh-oh! This does *not sound good.

  2. No pictures of the very wet Caroline?

  3. uh oh - we has nefurr hadded an IEM. perhaps 'acause mommy knows better then to close the door to the bedroom. efenn fough we doesn't always sleep in there it has to be open. or we holler. loud. all night. and bang the door.

  4. Caroline, William, some advice: next time you encounter an IEM, here is a tried-and-proven response that achieves the maximum counterinsurgency effect. You will need to call upon all your skills as guerres de felines, but trust me, they are there inside you. Here's what you do:

    1. Sit there and take the spray. Yes, I know this sounds counterintuitive, but in all matters of high military stategy, the best course is not often the one the seems the most logical. Yes sit, there and take the water as if it is nothing more than a breeze through the window.

    2. Look at Mom and half close your eyes. With all your telecommunicative powers (which are formidable as you well know) think: "Oh, puhl-leeze." Remember: The best offensive manuevers have often been become mired like Hummers in the sand by a response of nonchalance.

    3. Now, carefully rise and walk past Mom as if you were off to do something more important. Stop by Mom and do a quick shake — nothing elaborate — just enough to get her wet and proceed to your imaginary appointment.

    Tail up then. There's a good Caroline and tiny boy. I have full confidence you will acheive the superior position in this latest conflict over the balance of power.

    — Gen. Fluffy, Furrst Regiment, military adviser of the first order to Her Majesty the Tuxedo.

  5. Uh-oh sounds like Caroline got in trouble! We haff our mom trained to keep all da doors in da house open. Maybe you could train yer mom da same.

  6. "Oh" no not the dreaded water bottle.
    It's every kitty's worst enemy.

  7. Oh poor Caroline ... same thing happened to Josie the other day, except she was lying on the step getting the riser and Mom squirted her.

  8. I have a tendency to yowl at closed doors but luckily my Food Lady doesn't have a squirt bottle! She thinks I'm cute but the Dad would definitely squirt me if we had a squirt bottle!

    Purrrs, Willow

  9. Be careful William, Caroline, and Olivia. May be you can try to hide the water bottle when your mom is out hunting.

  10. Oh . . . my, umm Caroline, you might wanna stop doin' that . . .

  11. Hahaha, I did just like Caroline did whenever my mom tried to lock me out of her bedroom, but I am quicker than her (not to mention that she is not very well-coordinated in the middle of the night), so she always ended up spraying the air with the water bottle, instead of spraying me. That all lasted for about a week after I first came home.

    Since then, I get to sleep on the pillow next to her head.

    Thanks for checking up on me, William... I am fine. My mom has just been busy.

  12. Caroline, are you trying to get in or get out?

    Rather than being accused of destroying the carpet, you can point out to your mother that you're working on a major piece of artwork!


  13. mew mew I got blasted by the water pistol twice this week! I was just rearranging things on my mommy's nightstand. She has too much stuff up there and I was just making more room by trying to knock some things off it. Next thing I know is I'm getting blasted by water shots!!!


Wowee meowee.