I use to love cats until I was made it to college. Someone, I won't mention who, told me that they had a new littler of kittens... so I took one home. Now, I must admit that kittens are a whole different animal than older cats and perhaps I just wasn't prepared for the disaster that came my way.
I took the little lady home and it was wonderful until an hour into our little adventure. She went pee on my floor. It's okay I said, she is only a kitten. The next morning I awoke to find that I smelled like pee, I also discovered several small turds around my apartment, no where close to the wonderful litter box I had just bought. Still I said, it's okay.
By the time I came home from work, my one chair had been mutilated by her tiny claws and as I walked around searching for poo, my socks became wet from the multiple pee spots now scattered across my carpet. After cleaning up the mess I sat down at my computer only to have her sharp needle like claws pierce my legs repeatedly as she tried to climb to my lap.
The following day was more of the same. Pee socks, poo carpet and now my legs look liked they had been dragged through the thickest brier patch in the universe. I lasted a total of three days. Perhaps it was because I was young, or perhaps because I was dreaming of a magical kitty cat creature that was perfect in every way, but I was completely unprepared for this little ball of cuteness that nearly destroyed my life. Luckily for me, I was able to give the little one back :)