This afternoon, I went to throw some more stuff in the washing machine to get some laundry done, but I paused because I realized that the lint trap had fallen in. It was when I reached in to retrieve it that I screamed because something moved. Angel, who puts to rest any notion that all cats are smart, had decided that the presence of a small blanket and a few soft towels made the washing machine the ideal place to catch a little nap. Had I not noticed him, I would have thrown the rest of the towels in on top of him, dumped in some soap, closed the lid, and turned on the hot water. I’d like to think I would have heard him but Breanna and I had Rascal Flatts blaring at high volume, so I don’t know.

He’s a freakin’ moron but that doesn’t mean I want to first scald, then drown him. He’s one lucky little shit.

And of course, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a little cat macro.