There was puke, but it wasn't mine.

I like my house to be clean. If my house is untidy, it stresses me out and I feel as if I can't relax. Clutter makes me uneasy and I really dislike watching the animals chase dust bunnies across my living room. 'Mater isn't as anal about cleanliness as I am. The Children care even less. They don't care if the dog walks across their clean sheets, that were left on the floor, and they don't care if the dining room table has been wiped down from breakfast before they are served their dinner on it - right over the milk spilled from breakfast. Let one of the cats puke in the hallway, though, and they are aghast! I got led on a tour of ALLLL the places the cat threw up.

I had news for them. When I woke up, I walked the minefield of throw up down the hallway, managed to stop just before I set foot into the pile of cat puke in the kitchen, and then had the pleasure of watching the dogs eat the puke. I was kind of fine with that though because my un-caffeinated brain was having difficulty figuring out what I supposed to do with this enormous pile of cat puke. The quick thought that did pop into my head made me start dry heaving so I was ab-so-LUTELY fine with letting someone, or some beast, handle the issue.  

So, the dogs ate most of the puke, went outside to check the morning news, came back inside and my most well-behaved dog peed on the remaining pieces of cat puke. Peed On It. Don't yell at dogs while they are peeing. They will just move whist peeing. It's better to clean up a concentrated area of pee rather than an area that resembles a Jason Pollock painting. This was a good learning lesson for me. Amidst the vomit and pee, I discovered that The Children do have a line that can be crossed when it comes to being clean, and it's written on the floor in yellow chunks.