Earlier this week, Ginger, aka The Cat!, was being her normal self and ripping around the house. I had to get up from desk several times to see what she was getting into and making sure she didn't eat the Lego village on the dining room table. Then it got quiet and I thought maybe she'd worn herself out.

After about half an hour I hear the sounds of a box tearing so I get up to investigate. I poke my head into the girls' bathroom to find the cat sitting on the counter, both paws in the Kleenex box, pulling out each sheet of tissue. After I scold her, she runs out. I'm left with a pile of tissue all over the counter and toilet seat. Then I notice the toilet paper has been rolled off the roll and left in a pile on the floor. Oh Cat!

I had to laugh and then I felt a bit guilty. All these months, I'd been blaming my kids for the odd piles of Kleenex and toilet paper pooled on the floor. I rolled my eyes, would mutter under my breath, and say, "Really?! You two are too old to be playing with toilet paper;" to which both would blame the other.

So to my girls I say, "I'm sorry. The Cat! did it and I've been blaming you."

After all Ginger's antics, we've realized why someone gave her up for adoption. She's a full-time cat, she needs discipline, attention, and an incredible amount of love. I've never met a cat that got into so much trouble--a cat who thinks it's fun to open drawers, pull out all the towels and napkins and then walk away.

And I wouldn't trade her for the world.