Man, so Barron and I decided to have a little party last night. I didn't get too crazy...but you should've seen him! On his 10th drink and 5th drag of catnip, I finally said to him, "Dude, slow it down! You know how you can't make it to the bathroom in time!" He just looked at me, laughed, and kept on at it. I shook my head and pawed at my whiskers, coming up with an excuse of how to tell Mom what happened when she wakes up in the morning. As the night rolled on, he was becoming more and more tipsy. "Enough!" I told him as I quickly grabbed the bottle out of his paw. He tried to fight back, but failed miserably because of his impaired state. Soon after, he passed out. 7 AM rolls around and I hear gagging. I wake up from my comfort spot and investigate what's going on. Oh, I so knew it! Barron was hacking up some nice big piles. One by the kitchen table and another by the couch. I approached him with the biggest grin on my face and said, "Told you so!" He's like, "Man, I don't care what you told me! This hangover is a killer and I'm going back to sleep."
He goes back to sleep, and look who walks into the living room...Mumsie. She discovers the piles and gave us the "look." Her first glance was at me, but then I'm like, "Mum, go look at who has the bloodshot eyes!" Ha ha, he didn't have bloodshot eyes but she knew it was him. He has a tendency to chew up things he shouldn't and barf them up hours later. Or we can just blame it on his drinking ;)