On Saturday night we collectively celebrated Jamie's birthday at Buffalo Wild Wings. After the glutton-fest was through a group of folks headed to O'Connor's. I had to work in the morning though, so Sweet Touch gave me a ride home, the sooner to put on my jammies and park it on the couch.
Shortly after getting home I hear a crash/thud in the kitchen, knowing it's the cat, but unsure what kind of trouble she's caused this time. Ah, the salt. She's recently become fascinated with my open salt cellar, so I've been keeping it hidden from sight. I apparently forgot to hide it though, because she has dumped about an entire cup of kosher salt all over the stove. gggrrrr. This is going to need the hose attachment on the vacuum, as it's far too much to sop up. But wait, a couple of weekends ago Jamie was looking for duct tape because he said the hose attachment had a leak and lost suction. Great, so now I have to fix the vacuum first.
The floor lamp next to the closet where we store the vacuum has a foot pedal on/off switch. I see kitty's favorite mousy toy on the floor in the near dark, next to the switch. I hit the on/off with my foot, hear a tremendous POP sound, see a ton of sparks and, shit!, what's that smell? SHIT! My pant leg is smoldering! Stupid cat chewed through the cord. Fuses have gone out in the whole house. Awesome. I put out my pants, flip the fuses, pull out the vacuum, and start to look into fixing it.
Turns out it isn't a leaking hose at all, it's the world's largest wad of kleenex in the hose. I get a very long, very sharp knife and start shredding it, eventually getting all of it out and successfully cleaning up the salt. stupid cat.
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