My next cat

I went to bed about 9 PM last night. 

I was Not Happy to be awakened, after 11 PM, by a screaming kid having a tantrum in #6's backyard, right outside my bedroom.  I don't know how the kid got out but he did, and when caught, had a tantrum.  The father was yelling at him in Spanish during the tantrum, and dragged him back into the house. 

I hope he spanked the kid.  From what I could hear it was the 4-5 year old boy.  I may have been pregnant around the time this kid was conceived.  I had some odd symptoms and a very heavy period a while later, with massive clots the size of ping pong balls.  Money was tight or I might have gone to a doctor, but I never had any subsequent problems after that. 

Incidents like last night make me glad I had a miscarriage, if that's what it was.  I don't know whether it is all kids that age or just the ones next door, but boys aged 3-5 seem to be very "bad", extremely disobedient, and constantly breaking rules. 

I was especially annoyed when #6 fired up his compressor at 7 AM, letting it run for about 10 minutes and ensuring everyone had been woken up.  Yes, I get you need to go to work, but you don't have to fire up the compressor, while at home.  It's not like he had something at home to fix it, all the tools are in his truck anyway.  It was just his little F-you to all the people who did get to sleep in today. 

As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't get a prize for working 6 days (even though he only worked a couple hours today), because he's the one who fathered 6 kids.  If you make a lot of babies you have to pay for them, and you don't get a prize for that. 

That, after The Brat woke me up, made me pretty cranky.  Not to mention I had a headache. 

I did get some nice cuddles from Biscuit and Torbie.  Biscuit is really owning the cat condo in the bedroom now.  It is nice to lie in bed and look at his tail hanging off the edge. 

I got up and gave him some tuna in gravy, and he ate that.  I took my shower.  Ron woke up and told me we were going to the bank in 1 hour. 

Did I mention the headache? 

I did most of my God Time before our ride came. 

We went to the bank and I made the sales tax deposit.  Or should I $ay $ales tax? 

It was loud and took a while.  Then Ron wanted to go to the mall and get a fanny pack.  They didn't have the one he liked.  He asked me to give them his number so I did. 

I don't think they make the one he likes, anymore.  They weren't encouraging at the store (a small business). 

Then Ron wanted to go to the Waffle House.  We had a ride, why not? 

Well, it was packed. 

I am not a fan of screaming, noisy, toddlers.  They were hungry and wanted everyone to know.  They did not want to wait in line so they spent their time screaming at earsplitting levels. 

Did I mention the headache? 

I ate, it was good, but our waitress was a nervous wreck and it was very rushed.  Then I got stuck in line behind two gang members from New Orleans (the fleur-de-lis tattoo was pretty obvious) taking forever on their takeout order. 

I was so happy to just pay and get out of there. 

The Fleur-de-lis was a brand put on criminals, mainly prostitutes, sent to populate New Orleans by the French.  Now, New Orleans may be pretty proud of that past but I would not go bragging on it.  Like someone said "A lot of Genealogy freaks just 'can't find' that first generation in New Orleans."  Because they were all criminals and/or whores. 

I will say I was not impressed with the New Orleans population I met after Hurricane Katrina.  I have yet to meet a more demanding, entitled, bunch of brats.  I've written a lot about that.  My favorite was the old lady who demanded the driver stop and buy her a po-boy.  With his own money.  He declined and she cursed him out. 

After Katrina, a lot of cities re-evaluated how they would handle refugees from other cities, and most only committed to a few thousand, at best.  No other city in the nation will take tens of thousands like we did, and nursemaid them for years.   They saw what it did to Houston.  It cost Bill White, our mayor, his political future, and sent our crime rate skyrocketing. 

Now people just say they came here "A while back" at most, "In 2005" or "From Louisiana" careful not to mention New Orleans or Katrina.  They know how we feel about it. 

I have only met one "nice" person who came to Texas from Katrina, and she doesn't even live in the Houston area. 

So, Thug Boy was busy groping his girlfriend while they ordered, then he swung his hand back behind him at the level of my pelvis.  I jumped back until he stopped, then I moved back up to my former place.  I don't know what that was about.  I was giving him plenty of personal space. 

I was so happy to leave. 

We came home and I got things ready for the handyman.  I provide a cooler of drinks and a box full of snacks.  I got more of his favorite chip.  I unlocked the burglar bars on the back of the house, etc. 

He's out there now, working away.  I'll be glad when it's all done and my cats are safe. 

That fluffy cat came by again today, meowing loudly and trying to come in the cat door.  I was pretty annoyed, it was early and people are going to think it's MY cat making all the noise. 

It's not, it's some other person's cat.  They clearly don't give it any inside rights, or it wouldn't be so insistent on trying to be my next cat. 

I don't want a next cat.  I have plenty as it is. 

Oh, and a picture of my leg:

It doesn't hurt unless I press on it.  I have more bruises running down my leg to my ankle. 

But:
1.  I didn't bleed. 
2.  The compressor did not break. 

So I call it a win. 

Edit to add, Greg came out and did a lot of work on the catio.  Here is a progress picture.