It's raining cats...

There's a remake of Noah's flood forming in my basement. I knew when I heard the rain this morning that it was going to happen...it always does with a hard, steady rain. The routine is, move everything that can be moved, mop the puddles, go upstairs for an hour, then come back down to repeat the process...and pray it doesn't produce a basement full of black mold! The main culperate is an outside entrance with a drain that will not drain. So because the filled-up drain has no where to go, it sneaks under the basement door

and takes over. UGH!

Exhibit A:

(Hard to see on my phone's camera, but trust me, it's GROSS!)

In other news, the kitten has come into her own and decided that she has the run of the house. Until this week she's shied away from anything that appeared to be off limits to her. But not any more. I can't tell you how many times I've come into the room to see her sauntering across the kitchen table (with the SAME claws she just walked through her litter box in, mind you). Yesterday she ran in the bathroom and hopped on the open toilet as it was IN USE. She thinks the bathroom sink is her personal fountain. This morning she tried to climb in the tub with me. An hour ago she weaseled her way through the closed basement door to explore the flood zone. Right now she is curled in a ball sleeping on the same chair that I'M sitting on...I, for some reason, am perched on the very end so that she has enough room. WHAT ON EARTH!?!

I've decided to take back the control she somehow thinks she's gained. She can't tell me what to do or how it's going to be. She's a CAT for goodness sake, not my mom, my boss, or my child. I don't have to listen OR put up with it. Lucky for her, Emma loves her more than I do...

I'm going to go curl up on her kitty pillow and see how SHE likes it.