As the old adage goes, when the cat marks its territory in your combat helmet, throw it in a sink full of vinegar (the helmet, not the cat), and cross your fingers.
Wait, that's not a real adage?! Well it is now. As of today. At our house. If the smell doesn't come out, the Captain is just going to have to tell the Quartermaster he needs a new helmet because the old one has a bullet hole in it. Let's hope the Quartermaster doesn't call his bluff.
Here's something the animals have not yet ruined:
My kids had such a great time climbing on the fiberglass rocks at the zoo last month that I got it into my head that maybe I could buy a really big rock for the backyard. When I mentioned this plan to my fabulous neighbours, they laughed at me (I get laughed at out here a lot) and promptly drove me out to their pasture (closest I've ever been to a huge herd of cows). It turns out the pasture is covered with huge rocks, and they told me to take my pick. Who knew?! Last night, they came over with the tractor and dumped down a huge pile of sand and two enormous rocks. Needless to say, my children are ecstatic.
I wanted to include a few photos of them both playing, but Rosemary's Baby took one look at his new sand box, ripped off all his clothes and went diving at it. When he learns to keep his clothes on, I'll get some internet-appropriate shots.
This has seriously saved me something like $800 on a new play structure, and brings the number of favours I owe next door to approximately one billion.