Things That Are Really Gross
Within the last 24 hours, three of our four domesticated animals have peed on my bed. I feel like I don't need to say much else to convey the disgust I feel toward the whole world right now. When Natalee brought her rabbit in to "visit" as I was cleaning my room, he took the opportunity to squirt thick, yellow, boy-rabbit pee all over the only comforter that wasn't in the wash. Emmy had already compromised my new wool blanket, which was hastily removed and stored away from animal reach for safekeeping, and even though Dagny was sent outside with Emmy because of this transgression, the younger dog decided peeing in mom's bed must be cool so she circled around and squatted right in the middle of my "washable" down comforter. The first 700 times I washed this comforter it was great. It even smelled clean. Now, any feathers that actually remain inside the comforter during a washing, look and smell like they have been soaking in the Mississippi river. Right by where they are dumping the sewage in. So now ALL of my bedding is waiting patiently in line to be washed, along with about 78% of my wardrobe since Josh decided not to mix our laundry any more.
Apparently the other day I gave Josh a strongly opined lecture about how laundry should be done. I don't remember being angry, except maybe a little when I got into my underwear drawer and realized that Someone had put at least two loads of dirty laundry away for me, along with two stacks of carefully sorted yard sale clothes. The poor boy was only trying to help recover us from Hawaii, and since I worked every day and was rendered otherwise useless, he set to work. I guess I failed to communicate what the assorted mountains of clothes were. Anyway, all he took away from our discussion, which I will agree was rather one sided, is that he shouldn't ever do my laundry again, ever. So I am on my own. Which is not a very good place to be. I am trying to win him back to my side of the chores with gentle cooings of love and telling him that there "ain't no sunshine when he's gone" from my laundry room. I am not sure that it is working. I still haven't quite decided if dirty underwear in my drawer is worse than never having any clean clothes, but I am pretty sure it's not.
Anyway, since everyone else is using me bed for a toilet, I went ahead and invited Truck on down to poop on my pillow, since I just put new pillowcases on. I really feel terrible complaining about Emmy at all, because she is generally mostly sometimes potty trained, and since her car wreck (I wish she had wrecked the car) she has trouble getting outside, especially through the dog door, especially with her Cone of Shame on. And I feel like she suffers enough banging her cone on every hard surface trying to sniff and rub her head on fuzzy things. Her little accident last night was purely a tortured side effect of being cut off from potty access, which I guess is my fault. I am thinking about sleeping on the couch tonight, or the floor, but I can't seem to find anywhere that is uncontaminated by something. Now I know what hell will be.
I feel like I am fighting windmills trying to keep up with all of the mini catastrophes in this house. Very tiny windmills, but windmills all the same. I have to make a confession: I went to Walmart. The one in Bend. For the first time ever. It's the only place that I knew had Kids N Pets and I felt like if I got enough Kids N Pets I would feel like I was in control of the sanitation of my home again. Since I really never ever ever EVER want to go back to Walmart again, I bought like 4 bottles, and hurried out. I nearly died three time. Mostly from shame but also when some scary looking white trash hipsters (Oxymoron, anyone?) and a pair of psuedo-Trustafarians got into a scuffle in the dog food aisle over the last roll of fresh pet refrigerated food. I happened to have two rolls of the good stuff (chicken flavor, duh) under my arm and no way to defend myself since my hands were full of Kids N Pets, but I got ready to use one of them like pepper spray if things got serious. I plan to never go back to that store. Did I already mention that?
I am hot and heavy in the middle of cleaning various types of urine around the house, so I'd better get back to it. But I thought you would want something to make you sleep better in your nice, clean, pee-free bed tonight.
Apparently the other day I gave Josh a strongly opined lecture about how laundry should be done. I don't remember being angry, except maybe a little when I got into my underwear drawer and realized that Someone had put at least two loads of dirty laundry away for me, along with two stacks of carefully sorted yard sale clothes. The poor boy was only trying to help recover us from Hawaii, and since I worked every day and was rendered otherwise useless, he set to work. I guess I failed to communicate what the assorted mountains of clothes were. Anyway, all he took away from our discussion, which I will agree was rather one sided, is that he shouldn't ever do my laundry again, ever. So I am on my own. Which is not a very good place to be. I am trying to win him back to my side of the chores with gentle cooings of love and telling him that there "ain't no sunshine when he's gone" from my laundry room. I am not sure that it is working. I still haven't quite decided if dirty underwear in my drawer is worse than never having any clean clothes, but I am pretty sure it's not.
Anyway, since everyone else is using me bed for a toilet, I went ahead and invited Truck on down to poop on my pillow, since I just put new pillowcases on. I really feel terrible complaining about Emmy at all, because she is generally mostly sometimes potty trained, and since her car wreck (I wish she had wrecked the car) she has trouble getting outside, especially through the dog door, especially with her Cone of Shame on. And I feel like she suffers enough banging her cone on every hard surface trying to sniff and rub her head on fuzzy things. Her little accident last night was purely a tortured side effect of being cut off from potty access, which I guess is my fault. I am thinking about sleeping on the couch tonight, or the floor, but I can't seem to find anywhere that is uncontaminated by something. Now I know what hell will be.
I feel like I am fighting windmills trying to keep up with all of the mini catastrophes in this house. Very tiny windmills, but windmills all the same. I have to make a confession: I went to Walmart. The one in Bend. For the first time ever. It's the only place that I knew had Kids N Pets and I felt like if I got enough Kids N Pets I would feel like I was in control of the sanitation of my home again. Since I really never ever ever EVER want to go back to Walmart again, I bought like 4 bottles, and hurried out. I nearly died three time. Mostly from shame but also when some scary looking white trash hipsters (Oxymoron, anyone?) and a pair of psuedo-Trustafarians got into a scuffle in the dog food aisle over the last roll of fresh pet refrigerated food. I happened to have two rolls of the good stuff (chicken flavor, duh) under my arm and no way to defend myself since my hands were full of Kids N Pets, but I got ready to use one of them like pepper spray if things got serious. I plan to never go back to that store. Did I already mention that?
I am hot and heavy in the middle of cleaning various types of urine around the house, so I'd better get back to it. But I thought you would want something to make you sleep better in your nice, clean, pee-free bed tonight.