Birthday Day!

I just like the way that sounds: birthday day.
Don't ask because I have no idea what to tell other than that.

Birthday day, birthday day! La la la, it's birthday day!

So, I am now 25 years old. My sister is under the impression that this fact alone will make my insurance go down, but I have no clue why she thinks that. I think that, if it's true, that will be the only worthwhile change that takes place while I'm occupying this nice rounded number of an age.

I got a cute card from my co-workers today with cartoon cats tied to balloons that move when you turn a paper dial à la a pop-up book. There's this one that has a face like this:
^     ^
O . O
    ^

It's so great! Makes me think of my Po, who already gave me three presents for my birthday, which is super, considering she's a cat. Yeah. They weren't the most pleasant of presents, either. First one she gave me early this morning:
   Po: *crinkle crinkle*
   Me: Ughhh... (waking up)
   Po: *more crinkles*
   Me: No ball! It's too early, stupid cat. (rolls over)
   Po: *crinkle crinkle crinkle*
   Me: Fine! That's it!
I get up, grab the paper ball from her and put it in a drawer. Glancing at the glaring red numbers on the stove clock, I see it's exactly 6:00 AM, one hour before the alarm goes off. Nice timing, Po!

Second present from Po comes when I wake up fully with the third try of the snooze button.
   Ryan, waking up: It smells like poop.
   Me: You smell like poop.
   Ryan: No, I'm serious.
   Me: *sniff sniff* Great...
Yup. Po took a great big dump in the litter box (on the other side of the house, mind you) and failed to cover it like usual. This time even Seffie was so disgusted that she didn't go in and cover up Po's monstrous dump. She was so upset this morning at Po's nasty poo that I didn't even see her until I'd cleaned out the box and Febreezed. Smart cat.

Third present from Po came when I was in between waking up and getting out of bed.
Ryan's already up and we're both very aware of the distinct poopy odor scenting the air when he turns and says this: "Is that puke?"
Yes, Ryan. Yes it is. AND we know how to distinguish between the puke of Seffie and Po because Seffie usually pukes chewed food and/or clumps of black hair and/or whole pilfered ribbons while Po, on the other hand, pukes up almost solely unchewed, partially digested dry food. This little clump on the floor in front of his dresser was the latter. Thank you, Po!

Of course, I couldn't stay mad at her for long. She followed me to the bathroom when I was getting dressed and hung out around the door, batting a hair tie she'd stolen from my purse. She purred and wagged her stripey tail while I brushed Seffie, who'd appeared from nowhere like the chubby ninja that she is. I guess it wasn't too bad of a birthday day morning after all.