Toddlergeddon VII: Toddlerpocalypse

[Beware of vicious, sharp-toothed cotton balls.]

 Ruru the Cat here.  I can't imagine my people were warned before chaos descended this weekend, or they would have left the state.  My house is usually pretty quiet, which is how we cats like it.  Usually, the most annoying thing we have to listen to are the little kick-me dogs yipping to get out then, three seconds later, yipping to get back in again because they have the IQ of a cotton ball.  But I'd rather have cotton balls because they're quiet.  

[Hiding from the descending hoards.]

Anyway, my people left Friday night after the standard flurry of activity that told me they weren't coming back that night.  The biggest clue was they fed us early.  No complaints there except they should have come back again just to feed us a second time.  But anyway, then, they came home the next day, which was fine.  What wasn't fine was when it felt like a portal of toddlers and their loud adult owners opened from the underworld to allow one hoard after another to invade my peaceful house.  I saw the first carload coming with the full Toddlergeddon crowd.  Those itty bitty monsters came screaming into my house, throwing toys everywhere and opening and closing doors.  I came face to face with the first one and knew I was doomed.  I just barely escaped with my life. 

[Like a lamb to the slaughter--RUN, KITTEN!]

Then, another group and another and another and another showed up, many of them with kids who wanted to hunt down cats.  That poor one-eyed kitten did not know any better and got stuck getting passed from kid to kid, including to one of the toddlergeddon crowd, the littlest one that was a nice, safe baby until it got bigger and figured out it has hands that can squish cats.  Mostly, Paige, my huge kitten, and the itty bitty cyclops kitten hid in what used to be my room with my person because my person is smart and doesn't like small hands any better than we cats do. She's our honorary cat. 

[The only good thing about the whole mess. You'll note my ears are still back. That's how offended I was.]

We smart cats hid downstairs until there was no sign of those monsters.  The mom here come down, and it was clear she didn't plan to feed us.  However, we were able to guilt-trip her into it, all five of us hiding down there together, whether we like each other or not.  She didn't feed us a lot, but it made me feel a little better.  We did try to creep upstairs a time or two, but then more of those human littles would show up again.  They invaded and disasterized our house for a full day. It was INSANE.  Finally, we're free of them. But you have no idea how much we suffered.  I hope those little monsters know better than to show up again.