I feel like I’ve done this post before.
But only the title is similar.
Max, our dog just puked two humongous piles of garbage on the family room rug.
Of course. 2/3 of the family room/kitchen area is hardwood, but she feels most comfortable letting it rip onto the fiberous portions of the floor.
Now yesterday. Was funny.
We busted our asses to get to the 8:30 church service.
It started at 8:15.
Who the hell starts church on the quarter hour?
After an embarrassing entry into the church with my in-laws watching from across the room, we settled in.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and realized there was an enourmous–I’m talking a lumpy, hulking sized, clump of something stuck to the bottom of my right shoe.
My very cute shoes. But not cute in a small petite way.
They’re Dansko’s the most comfy shoes on the planet.
But the soles are grooved. Perfect for picking up and transporting large amounts of semi-moist chunky stuff.
So Bill and I are sitting there looking at my shoe trying to ascertain whether it was dog shit or mud. It didn’t smell, but it sure looked like crap.
After 15 minutes a very constipated Beth decided she was finally ready to poop.
So we traipsed out of church where she pooped after two days of trying. She’s new to this crap on the toilet stuff.
While she was on the pot, I went to work on the shoe.
Poop. It was.
I used the diaper wipes to clean up my shoe.
We made it back for the last ten minutes of church.
The good and bad of having kids and dogs, I guess.