Wee Wee Wee, not so much

I damaged my pinky toe, real bad. After I jammed it into the baseboard hard enough to make it pop in an unnatural place, I fell to the floor gritting my teeth in agony. Butterscotch fell down beside me and accidentally slapped me in the face with a necklace she was holding for good measure. Later, the same afternoon, I rammed the same pinky toe again. My inability to walk a straight line has rendered me swollen, badly bruised, and wondering why on earth we even need baseboards. Furthermore, baseboards are absolutely no fun to dust and they tend to get very, very dusty way too often. I mean, come on, we can live without baseboards ya'll. Will you join me in a baseboard boycott? Just rip 'em out of there. No? Just me? Ok, well then.