I spent the afternoon getting the taxes together for my mother and me.  Finally, after wrestling with numbers and information, I went in to pick up all the forms I'd printed only to discover one of the cats had peed all over the stack.  (I think I know which one, but they were both had the "Who? Me?" look when I got there.)

Now after all that has happened this past six weeks, from death to taxes, the cats must have decided that my life was, to use a phrase, piss poor these days.  Wasn't it nice of them to make the comment for me?