I have a kitty named David Hasselhoff. He’s ADORABLE and cuddly and chubby, and he loves to eat plastic bags and food wrappers. He always has. It’s like crack for him, and the one time I asked a vet about it he was all “Yeah…that’s pretty much the worst thing he could be eating.” AWESOME. But I can’t make him stop! If there is plastic ANYWHERE in the house, he will find it, and he will eat it. Leave him alone with a grocery bag for less than five minutes? Handles GONE. And slobbery.

And he KNOWS, he is ABSOLUTELY aware that he’s not supposed to be eating it because when you catch him, he guiltily slinks away, waiting for you to turn your back so he can scamper back and carry on his nomming. I’ve turned into this crazy plastic nazi and warn everyone who comes into our house that we need to put the plastic away. And not just stuffed in a purse or an unlidded trash can or a box or someplace that you might THINK would be safe because, for as dumb as he seems, he’s quite crafty. He can open cupboard doors and shoe boxes, and he’ll root around in trash cans all in the pursuit of plastic. Drawers are only safe if the insides can’t be reached from an adjoining cupboard. It’s RIDICULOUS.

So I really should have known better.

Before we went to Hawaii, I bought a We-Vibe because, well, why not? And it was WONDERFUL…until it recently stopped working. So I emailed the company about the issue cause that shit ain’t cheap, and they sent me instructions on returning it for a replacement. Sweet. I get it all ready to be packaged up to be shipped back, which included, per their instructions, putting the vibrator and charger in plastic zippered bag, which I then put in my work bag to mail.

At work the next day (don’t worry, I was alone in the office), I go to stick everything in an envelope, grab the plastic zippered bag, and feel little teeth marks all along the top.

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