Cat: So last night, I tanked up on water and ate both bowls of cat food right before I had to hork up a hairball, because I know how much you love to smell and clean up my regurgitated food. There’s a present for you in the living room, the kitchen, and in little spots all over that you’ll randomly step in.
Me: Um, that’s no present. And you know I’d rather lose my olfactory senses completely than smell that stuff, let alone clean it up.
Cat: Yeah, I do know that. But you’re going to go and clean it up BECAUSE YOU’RE MY PUKE BITCH.
Me: I hate you with the burning intensity of a thousand white-hot stars.
Cat: You missed a spot over here, puke bitch…