Despite a dubious start, it's been a lovely weekend.
Saturday morning was bright and warm and lovely - the dogs awoke me at about 7:45 - not bad for this pack - with Patsy pacing. This is her sign for "need to go out now!!" We've made great strides in housebreaking, considering she spent the first 7 months of her life outside. Eddy - a breeze. Patsy - not so much.
So we wended our way downstairs and let everyone out. I didn't even take time to put my glasses on, but hey - it's fine - I can still see well enough to make coffee.
So - while the coffee was brewing - I emptied the dishwasher, rinsed and refilled it with a new load. Emptied, cleaned and refilled the 2-week watering device for our five little darlings (think water cooler bottle sitting on a big bowl), fed the cats, let the dogs back in and fed them ...all the while the birds are chirping, the leaves on the trees are rustling. Glorious.
So - after about 30 minutes of morning bliss - I head upstairs to retrieve my glasses.
I paused to lift the shades on our bedroom windows and
Doggie stress poop.
Dog owners will know exactly what this is - it's the " I tried to wait for you - honestly, I did" doggie equivalent of the Hiroshima blast that humans get when they wait until the last conceivable possible second. The type you don't want at friends or when you are in a public restroom.
Especially after Mexican food.
It's not pretty.
And to be hopping around on one foot and 'whURPping' - a sound I make when I am trying not to vomit (I have had a life-long extreme reaction to the smell of dog poo) - while the husband SNORES and SLEEPS the morning away not three feet away - is a little disconcerting!
But to spare you the gory details, I dealt with it - and we moved on.
(Thank GOD we have an upstairs bath that is only 3 one-legged poop hops from the bedroom.)
When hubby finally awoke a half hour later and descended the stairs, "the story" was waiting for him at the bottom with a fresh cup of coffee in its hand.
"SO -" it said. "You missed a glorious morning."
"I know - I heard," he said.
"And you did NOTHING?!?!$@$%^&"
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?"
"Sounded like someone peed on the rug overnight."
!!!!!!!!!!!!1!1!1!1 Insert Japanese Movie Monster screeching here - overlaid with intense swearing and anti-Irish epithets
"Oh," he said. "Didn't realize it was so bad."
"I'd bleach the sink before you do anything upstairs."
"Enough milk in your coffee?"
Eighteen years will do that to you.
Shorthanding your crazy (and we do this a lot) is like having someone pee on your fireworks.
They may still work but - hey - why the fudge bother? It'll probably smell bad.
But for all my passive-aggressive pals out there, he's been having a long kip (nap) on this lovely Sunday evening - post-Champagne and gardening - it's been a lovely day.
But I am about to hit 'enter" to this post and let in the winged howler monkeys we call our puppies....
...just to wake daddy up.
Mwah ha ha. Ha HAAAAA HAAAHHHAHHHHHAHHHHAHHAHHHAHHH!!!!!!!