a con of owning cats

Three days ago our feline family members went to the vet to have surgery. Reason? So that this spring we would still have only two kitties and not 6...or 8...or 10....
They had to spend the night at the vet's, so two days ago when I came home, it was strange opening the basement door and not seeing two bubbly, happy, attention wanting kitties bounding up to greet me.
And as often as they have gotten on our nerves, Aaron and I found that we were missing them.
"I wonder how Georgie is doing," Aaron mentioned a few times as we were laying in bed. And then as I was leaving the school to pick them up, I got a call from Aaron, "Call me right after you pick the little bundles up." He told me.  I think my hubby is more attached to them than I am!
I picked them up on Thursday and when Aaron got home, I discovered he had stopped at the store and had bought 10 cans of cat food. He gave them one....and just because he felt bad they had had surgery, two hours later (against my suggestions) he gave them another.
We decided to allow them to sleep upstairs that night, because again, we felt bad they had surgery and downstairs we don't have a couch or chair for them to sleep on.
Bad Idea!
I opened our bedroom door the next morning and the nauseating smell of cat poo wafted into my nose. I followed the smell to none other than Aaron's spring coat. Needless to say, Aaron was not a happy camper when he discovered there was vomit and/or diarrhea on his good coat. As I was getting dressed, Aaron walked into the kitchen and I heard,
"GEORGE GIT OUT OF HERE! THEY POOPED IN THE KITCHEN!" He bellowed. I then heard him slam the door to downstairs and he came stomping into our bedroom.
"I can't handle this. I want to throw up. If this happens again we are getting rid of them." He threatened.
I think we both knew that was an empty threat. Through the good and the bad, I think the cats have a forever home with us.
Although the forever home may be in the garage come summer.