Straws

Gunnar likes to play with anything he shouldn't have. One of his favorites, though, is straws. Yesterday morning I was playing on the computer when Gunnar came charging into the room batting around a straw. My first thought was that it was cute. My second thought was where did he get the straw. I figured the husband had used a straw the night before and maybe the straw fell out of the trash can. I wasn't too worried about it until the husband asked me where the straw came from. Still, I wasn't that alarmed it must have come from under some chair or something from this summer. (We haven't used straws since then).

A few minutes later Gunnar waltzed back into the room, with his head covered in spidewebs, paper shreds and who knows what. I had to go investigate. Sure enough I found an open cabinet door and a pile of straws laying in front of the open door.

That particular cabinet I use to store potatoes, extra stuff like salad dressing and paper products. Gunnar had pawed the cabinet open, climbed to the very back corner, shredded open a bag of straws and one at a time pulled them out.

Kudos to Gunnar. I didn't even remember we had those straws.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go baby proof my house— for a 13-pound cat.