The Tower of Doom

So yeah, got the bedroom painted (again) this past weekend. Did it right this time - proper color, sans clothing.

Friday night I cleared out the contents of the room, stacking dresser drawers on top of each other on this ottoman in the living room, then sliding the dresser out to the dining room. All the other furniture too, everything went.

Got the room primed Friday night, then put my mattress down in the living room so I could sleep there - I knew the cats would sleep with me because anything new is funky, right?

And yeah, as I was stacking these dresser drawers on top of that ottoman, I knew it was a bad idea. The whole stack reached up pretty high, and it wasn't as stable as it could have been - but I figured it was too high for the cats to get on top of, and there were plenty of other fun things in strange places to keep them entertained. Right?

Wrong.

I wake up sometime around 2:00 a.m. to a strange sound, look up (I'm on the living room floor, remember) and I see Secret standing on the top of the stack. Not only is he on the top of what I've termed the Tower of Doom, but he's lookin' to go higher and trying to reach out to the top of the cabinet that hides the TV.

I'm flippin' out, but his brother, Rumor, is holding me down - lying on my legs so I can't get untangled from the blankets and get up. I finally did, and got Secret down, but then Rumor wanted to try it.

Needless to say, I got little sleep. My boys were fascinated with the Tower of Doom all night long, since I had no where else to put these drawers and by now the whole living room is so crowded with stuff, it's all I can do to pull one of them off the Tower while the other climbs up the opposite side.

At least they had a good time.

And now I have a room I no longer call the Bat Cave. My clothes remained clean (since I didn't wear them) and there's no more Tower of Doom for my boys to play on.

Now I suppose I should go write some words, eh?