Burp cloth name contest and killer kitty

I was thinking this morning as my 3-month old bundle of cute barfed on me for the third time, totally missing the burp cloth, AGAIN. See, she does this thing where she burps and about 3 full seconds later, a huge waterfall of slightly digested formula comes tumbling out. I know it's coming, so I've got the burp cloth all ready to go, held in front of her mouth and chin, to catch said liquid before it ends up on her outfit, my shirt, m pants, the Boppy pillow and the carpet (yes, there have been incidents where one little baby barf has ended up on all of those things, somehow.) But right at the very last second, she, seemingly on purpose, turns her head so that nary a drop ends up on the burp cloth. So, my big revelation this morning: Why do they call it a burp cloth? It is clearly a barf cloth. And it doesn't work too well for that, either, apparently. Maybe it should be called a wiping up the barf cloth, because that is the main use we get out of it. Anyone have any catchier ideas?

Also, I think our cat is trying to kill us. See, Henry is extremely friendly, but also a cat that has a lot of emotional needs. He likes to be ON you, preferably, with RIGHT NEXT TO YOU as a reasonable alternative. He does not understand why Cassidy does not pet him when he rubs against her foot and he does not appreciate all of the attention going her way. In the early days, when Cassidy would wake up at the drop of a pin, I have to admit that Henry got locked in the basement a couple of times. (After a few particularly boisterous meows announcing he had woken up from his nap or simply entered the room, resulting in a previously sleeping baby tranforming into a shrieking baby.)

Well, I can tell you one thing I know about cats. They don't get mad; they get even. I have heard some interesting stories about cats who unwillingly become big brothers or sisters to human babies. I have heard of laundry being urinated on, cribs becoming litter boxes. Henry, apparently is too refined to use his own excrement to make a point. He's not giving any warning, either. It's on like Donkey Kong. I have noticed that in addition to giving us dirty looks and turning his back on us, he has started leaving his toys, strategically placed on the stairs. He does this at night so that the chances are higher than I will trip and fall on them, tumbling to my death while carrying the baby downstairs in the morning. I believe I have seen a look of disappointment cross his face when I have successfully navigated Toy Death Stairs the past few mornings. I am concerned he is plotting to ramp up his efforts.

I am thinking we had better switch to the wet food and be a little more liberal with the Greenie Treats...that is, if we value our lives. Can you see the danger in his eyes?