Monsters are real.

I have a cat named monster. She's been a real bad seed for the past few months. It's got a lot to do with the fact that there's a new cutie in the house that's getting all the attention now. My new, first-born daughter has been edging in on the (not so) little monster's lap time.

When I get home, I used to go sit down at the computer and read my email and stuff. Monster, or "the pace" as we usually call her, would jump up on my lap and get some serious petting before dinner time.

That was then.

Now my evening consists of playing with my giggley baby girl. I love it and I love her. I don't really have time for the Pace these days. Poor, poor pace-o. To show her displeasure she's taken to ruining our carpets by pissing on them.

My baby will be 6 months old on Friday. She's really into rolling on the floor right now and at this rate crawling can't be far off. Death to the Pace.

Don't get me wrong, I love my cat, but it's time to face facts. She's at the vet today, and I guess we'll discover whether there's any medical reason for her incontiance, but even if there is, I can't afford to get the carpets steam-cleaned again ($75) and the mournful wailing that wakes me every morning isn't high on my favorites list either.

Anyway... We'll see.