Listen. I was evicted from my new home inside the kitchen cabinet and I'm really angry about it.
See, it's like this, Vito kept trying to get inside. I was getting more and more mad, so I figured out a way to make him stop. I pooped in the cabinet. Now, don't get all judge-y judge-y on me here. You would have done the same thing.
But, in retrospect, it may not have been the best action to take.
See, once I pooped in there I realized it wasn't going to be much fun to LIVE in there, so I pulled some lids to the Tupperware onto the poop to try to cover it. That didn't work, so I went into the box of Ziploc bags and pulled some out and put those over the poop, too. And that is when my mom came into the kitchen to investigate all the noise.
She opened the cabinet door and bellowed, "GROVER! NO YOU DIDN'T!" But, um, yeah, I did.
And that is when I got REALLY yelled out and she began throwing things out of the cabinet like a crazy person....can you say OVER-REACTIVE!? Exactly. And then she must have sprayed half a bottle of bleach spray all over the freaking place. And she was so mad because she had to throw all these different things away.
And then, the worst part, after she threw all the stuff out and cleaned up the poop and left the whole apartment smelling like bleach spray, she taped the cabinet closed and I can't open the door anymore to get it.
To say I am insulted does not do justice to the rage within me. I am now not only on strike, but starting the legal process to disown her. And Piggy and Vito, too.