What if the Cat Barfs?

Ever since I moved into my apartment a roll of paper towels has continuously hung from my kitchen cabinets. Not the same role, obviously, but you know what I mean. When the last roll was wearing down to the tube I made a conscious decision not to replace it.

The decision was made easier by the fact that there weren't any other rolls in the house; my Costco-size stash had been reduced to nothing. The environmental me wanted to stop the paper usage in an effort to save the forests, and the lazy me just didn't want to get off my butt and go buy another roll. And, well, decisions are always easy if there is laziness involved in sticking to them.

So, for the last week, the members of my household have found alternatives to using paper towels. Zeph and I used cloth napkins at mealtime instead of a paper towel split down the middle. I used the sponge more often to wipe up messes, even the ones from the floor. In fact, there is now a dedicated sponge for floor use because wiping the floor + wiping your dishes = gross. After use, the towels get thrown in the washing machine and wait until there is a big enough load to start the cycle. The sponges get rinsed like crazy and placed on the back splash, not still filled with water in the sink where the germs can propagate like rabbits (I am so OCD about my kitchen).

But the one question that has been running through my mind all week is, "What if the cat barfs?" It's not such a hypothetical question either, as the cat does indeed barf on a semi-regular basis. Don't worry, she's not sick. She just eats way to fast and then runs around too much and her little bloated belly can't take it. But enough about my cat's digestive habits...

Last night my pondering became a reality when, after a particularly energetic round of chase the invisible bug, the cat retreated under the futon and did her barfy business. Did I mention she always climbs under the futon? Why must she do that to me?

Zeph and I groaned and went into action, pulling the futon away from the wall, grabbing the bottle of cleaner, and reaching for the paper - oh, wait, there aren't any paper towels! So, instead, I grabbed a few cleaning rags (pieces of an old sheet that I ripped apart) and mopped up the mess. Some of it got thrown into the compost bin, and the rags got thrown into the wash with the other soiled towels.

And, because I don't need my house to smell like cat barf, the washing machine cycle was kicked off. I'll work on the my water consumption issues in a week or two....