As defined in Wikipedia, “ Lagniappe means a small gift given a customer by a merchant at the time of a purchase, such as a 13th beignet, when buying a dozen, or more broadly something given or obtained gratuitously or by way of good measure; a bonus.” These articles are a little something extra to say thanks for coming to my website. Craft and Laugh on!

My cat is a great source of entertainment for me and my family. I hope you also enjoy reading about her misadventures. And in case you’re wondering how a non-orange cat can be named Pumpkin, we found her one October, right before Halloween. It’s hard to believe, but I swear Pumpkin was so tiny as a kitten, I could hold her in the palm of my hand.  Maybe she grew round to make the name a better fit.

Age: 10 Breed: Tortoiseshell Calico Gender: Female Weight: NOYB Hobbies: Eating, Sleeping, Excessive Grooming   Food Favs: Stolen French fries and Chicken Nap Favs: Early morning, Mid morning, Noon, Early afternoon, Mid afternoon, Late afternoon, Early evening, Mid-evening, and Late evening

In early December, Pumpkin decided to give our family a little pre-Christmas present, and not of the litter box variety. The day started great.  I enjoy putting up holiday decorations outside and was careful not to let her out as I exited and entered the house, my arms straining with tubs of lights and garlands. At least, I thought I was careful. Pumpkin, you see, has lived inside since we brought her home as a kitten. The one time she decided to do a little outdoor exploring, she didn’t like it.  She slipped outside when no one was looking, and we found her shaking with fear under a bush in the front yard. On occasion, she will venture out onto the screened-in porch, but that’s about as far as she goes.

On this particular morning, she watched me unravel the lights and string them through the garlands of fake greenery through the storm door. After lunch, I noticed she wasn’t curled up in the corner of the couch for her usual mid-afternoon nap. I suspected she was in the basement, a place of interesting smells, but couldn’t find her down there. I shook her food container, which usually encourages her to emerge from her hiding spots, but she didn’t come. I didn’t panic yet. By dinner time, no one had seen her, not my husband, not my daughter, not his grandmother who lives with us. Pumpkin’s food bowl hadn’t been disturbed since the morning, when she dropped a couple of pieces of kibble into her water for a little flavor. I started worrying she’d snuck outside when I was putting up the decorations. My husband, daughter, Big Mama, and I called her name repeatedly. We looked under beds, in closets, in cabinets, but we couldn’t find her anywhere. As dark descended, I even walked around the yard with a flashlight, calling her name and searching under bushes.

By bedtime, I was certain she’d escaped the house and had met some tragic end. I’d promised my distraught daughter we’d get another cat if Pumpkin didn’t return. I went out on the deck and called her again, even shook the food container out there, knowing if she was alive, she had to be hungry.  That was when my daughter felt something move under the reclining couch. Yes, our overweight cat got herself into a small space she couldn’t get out of and hadn’t bothered to let us know until now. My husband and I had to flip the couch over to release her. She promptly meowed, licked her paws like nothing had happened, then headed for her food bowl. We think she finally had reached the point where hunger overcomes embarrassment.

I laugh off most irritating experiences. Others, like when my neighbors' dogs defecate in my yard and I inadvertently step in it, foster major meltdowns, which I then write about. Maureen's Meltdowns are a little something extra for visitors, who can perhaps relate to the need to blow off a little verbal steam.

Potty Etiquette 101

Exactly when did it become okay to talk on the phone while “sitting” in a public bathroom stall? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think it’s ever been polite to converse while seated on a toilet—unless the conversation involved pleading for some paper from an adjoining stall. But maybe I’m old-fashioned.

With an odd mixture of horror and irritation, I realized that I might be one of the few people who feel that way at a restaurant in Opelika, Alabama. My family and I were making our annual trek from the Atlanta area to my parents’ house in Louisiana. My awakening occurred as my daughter and I stood in a line extending out the door of the women’s bathroom and into the main aisle of the restaurant. We hoped to eventually get into the one stall that people were entering and exiting in a timely manner. The other stall was occupied for an inordinate amount of time, and not due to something like IBS. At first, I assumed the woman who was chattering away in the second stall was speaking to a friend in line. But there were lulls in the stall hog’s chatter. No one that I could hear was answering her back. Was she crazy? Possibly. After my initial evaluation of the situation, I came to the conclusion that this woman was talking on the phone.  Not only was this woman being rude to the person she was talking to via cell phone (I think Miss Manners would agree that no one deserves to hear flushing and other noises that occur while seated on a toilet while engaged in a phone conversation). But this woman was also being selfish in forcing all of us lined up to wait and wait because completing her conversation was more important than a group of strangers with bursting bladders.

And what do you suppose this “absolutely couldn’t wait” conversation was all about? Was it an emergency in any sense of the word? Was someone in this woman’s family dying or in a car accident? Was her house on fire? No. She was talking about a computer purchase. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know a long line had formed. She could hear the ladies in the queue complaining.

The expression “potty mouth” holds new meaning for me. Perhaps Webster’s will add it to the dictionary. Potty Mouth: (noun)  a person who speaks on her cell phone while urinating or while others around her urinate. Don’t be a Potty Mouth.

Previous Meltdowns:

Why I Hate Grocery Shopping
American Idle
Hayfever Isn't a Crime
Do You Know Where Your Decorations Are?
Fountain of Youth?
Be a Good Neighbor; Crap in Your Own Yard