You all know Ozzy. If you don't here's the catch up: he's our kitten, got him on Christmas, used to be named Onyx...could never remember that name, named after Ozzy Osborne, does everything our oldest Warhol does.
Let me set the scene: I wake up on my only day off this week to a loud crash. I go to investigate and find what made the crashing sound. I found Mr. Ozzy on the ledge of our bedroom window. He now can jump onto things.
Every time I hear a loud crash I just assume that Ozzy is in the windowsill somewhere. He's not that graceful.
So now every night since then he will jump onto my dresser and take my hair ties, knock over my Marc Jacobs picture and all my perfumes and take my flower hair accessories.
This may be one of the most annoying things everrrr.
and when I don't get a full night sleep I get cranky.
Thanks, OZ. Jerk.
OH PS!! I am guest posting for my dear friend Crystal today over at her blog!
Check it out here!