Not Helpful
In between work and going to dinner last night, I packed the Jello-Shot contest prizes. It was a constant challenge thanks to my little "helper". I had a box to pile the finished bags in and set up an assembly line to fill them. Of course, you can't expect a cat to stay out of a box...even if it's on the dining room table that the cat isn't supposed to be on.
Oh, were you going to use this box?
She was in and out of the box, in and out of the bags and chewing on the bags and the handles. I repeatedly took her off the table and put her on the living room chair. One minute later, she was back on the table sticking her nose in to my work. That cycle repeated (too) many times before I decided to lock her in her room.
Really, I'm helping!
Fatal flaw in that plan: I told her, "Do you want a time-out?" She must know what time-out means now because after that she jumped off the table and ran away each time before I could pick her up and put her in her room. That cycle repeated (too) many times.
I finally got the bags done, loaded in the box then locked them in my closet to keep them safe. I was so annoyed with her by then that I was 15 minutes early picking up The Rocket Scientist for dinner. I told him it was either be early or beat my child. He completely understood.
