So I spent a few days at my parents’ house over Christmas. This means four cats were in the house. And none of them get along.
This is one of my mom’s cats, Peanut. She’s the spawn of Browning. She found this nice little box to occupy. Apparently this box belonged to my dad and he was pretty pissed when he saw her in it. I forgot to mention he hates cats.
So he flies out of the recliner and runs over and gets her out of the box. This is how the conversation we had after the fact went:
Dad: Get that *expletive expletive* cat out of that box.
Me: Dad, who cares? It’s just sitting in there.
Dad: No, it’s probably crapping in there.
Me: Dad, why would a cat crap in a normal box?
Dad: Because it’s a cat. And a box.