Hey y’all.
My apologies for not posting yesterday. I had a sicko husband at home to care for, a fire that needed tending, and a couch that needed sitting on.
Apparently there was a house that needed cleaning too, but this little fact was lost on me until Milo so graciously pointed it out.
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So, Brian and I are in the bedroom.
Don’t get all Bow-chicka-bow-bow on me, we weren’t doing the horizontal polka or anything scandalous like that.
We were just…yanno…gearing down to go to sleep. Brusing the teefers, changing into jammies, and talking about how much it’s gonna cost to get new tires on WonderBread Ted.
Because our relationship is a magical.
So we’re hanging out watching TV – I think it was some show on the ocean, because I recall commenting that sperm whales look like giant pickles.
What?
They do!
…and suddenly, we hear some sort of clunking and snuffing going on in the other corner of the bedroom.
Noticing that Milo isn’t on the bed (aah, so THAT’S why I don’t have giant paws digging into my kidney), Brian immediately jumps up to see what he’s getting into.
“What’s he doing?” I ask
“I dunno. I can’t see – it’s too dark”
“Well turn on the light, then”
“Hold on, let me go over there”
So he stumbles over the laundry basket full of clean clothes that has been sitting in our room for 2 months now and the suitcases that have been 90% unpacked since our honeymoon to get a better look.
“Milo, what the hell are you doing?”
He bends over to inspect the situation, and I’m waiting for him to tell me that yet another shoe has lost its mate, when suddenly Brian starts chuckling.
And chuckling harder.
And then he’s full out laughing.
So I sit up and am all, “WHAT is so funny?”
He turns on the light and points to the ground.
Milo, it seems, was trying to hide his bone.
That, in itself isn’t terribly funny – he does it all the time.
He shoves them in couch cushions and jams them under piles of clothes constantly.
But this time?
He was trying to hide his bone by covering it in…
Wait for it…
Dust bunnies.
DUST BUNNIES!
Yes.
Apparently, we have enough dust bunnies floating around our bedroom for Milo to gather up and use as camoflague for his bone.
Am I embarassed?
Sure.
Am I a little proud of Milo for being so creative?
You bet.
And THAT, my friends, is when you know it’s time to clean your house.
Happy Friday everybody!
6 comments:
I want to trade dogs.
Maybe he was trying to clean for you, but since he has no hands to hold a dust pan, he figured rolling his slobbery wet dog bone in them would collect a decent amount.
That's a helpful dog.
Ha!! That's hysterical! I thought my dust bunnies were bad.
I would kill for your dog. And your dust bunnies. We have dust snowmen.
Hey, you have had sooooo much on your plate, you know planning a wedding, then having a wedding, then honeymooning it, then recovering from a boat full of sick peeps, then....
See, I can find excuses for not cleaning anywhere. I even justify them for others. Why? Because I care.
If my dog tried to hide his bone, he could totally do so in dust bunnies. I never thought of that before.
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