Bionic Cupcake Disaster

A few days ago, I was on my way to the Metro when an “I am PMS’s bitch” moment caught up with me. When I feel like this, there is only one thing that will make it better: cupcakes. And maybe smelly cheeses. Oh, and vodka. Yes, vodka certainly helps. But only if there are no cupcakes. Anyway, unexpectedly on a Sugar Quest, I decided to forgo the train home, grabbed the Circulator, and rode over to Georgetown. I practically sprinted to Georgetown Cupcake (aka Bliss for the Bargain Price of $2.75 Per). It was a day of miracles. They were still open, still had cupcakes, and not just the yucky strange seasonal flavors like Lemony Lime Yellow Sorry Excuse For a Cupcake Flavor. Nope, I was able to score half a dozen Vanilla Squared and Chocolate Ganache. Life was grand. Six days worth of Glorious Icy Goodness. Take that, hormones!

Cupcakes in hand, I walked across Key Bridge, trudged up the Big Hill and walked up four flights of stairs to Chez Apartment (the stairs being penance for the cupcake I was about to eat). Inside, I put the cupcakes on the kitchen counter and realized Bionic Kitty was out of food. When the cat bowl is empty, it’s sort of hard to miss. Number Two is a finicky eater. She really doesn’t mind if the chow runs out for a few hours. But Bionic Kitty is another matter. She wants that bowl filled, regardless of her hunger level. She’s been known to demand food and then just walk away once the bowl is full. Apparently, the option to eat is imperative in her world. If the food bowl reaches anywhere near an unacceptable levels of emptiness, Bionic will engage in continued harassment until she has her Friskies. She’s been known to repeatedly swan dive from the bathroom sink onto my lap while I try to relieve my bladder. She jumps onto my head/chest/appendages while I sleep. She’ll push things off the desk. Big things, like keyboards and Lawyerly Work Papers and once, a Mac Book (heart attack). She’ll knock over litter boxes and scatter the contents. And worst of all, she’ll chew up any and all shoes she can locate. So, yeah, when Bionic Kitty is hungry, I hop to. And this particular day, her bowl was empty and she let me know it the minute I was in the door. I walked into the kitchen, and she started banging her food dish against the wall. This is her warning sign: feed me NOW or you will pay, Big Lady! But I had to pee. I mean, really, really had to go. It was one of those times when it’s been building up since before I left the office and my delayed arrival at home had not helped. Neither had my climb up four flights of stairs. This was a bladder near-emergency. I was confronted with a decision: use the facilities or feed Bionic Kitty. Usually Bionic Kitty’s stomach takes priority over any other activities, but I figured just this once, I was going to make her wait.

In the two minutes it took me to walk across my apartment, take care of urgent biological needs and return to the kitchen, Bionic Kitty managed to get into my box of cupcakes, smoosh all six across my kitchen floor, track icing and cupcake bits onto the walls, eat two cupcake wrappers, and, and, and dump over the cat food container which was recently filled with three bags of cat food (at $14 each).

Her face said it all: That’s called A Lesson, Big Lady! You should have fed me FIRST!

That cat is totally living on borrowed time. And, she was damn lucky there was vodka in the house.

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2 Responses to “Bionic Cupcake Disaster”

  1. laura Says:

    Actually, that cat really IS living on borrowed time…need I remind you of WHY she is bionic kitty? : )

  2. Laina Says:

    You really, really need a basement. When Floyd has those “Feed me NOW” moments, I feint to the basement door, and as soon as he runs down, I lock him in till I get done with whatever else I need to do. It’s amazing how smart I feel about outsmarting a dumb animal.

    Were ANY of the cupcakes salvageable?

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