Jeff and I live a pretty relaxed home life. We generally don’t have many “rules” but there are some.
1. No shoes in the house – what if you step in gross spit and track it in a spot I like to lay on?
2. The AC will be set no lower than 82 degrees when no one is at home – I’m cheap.
3. If you put buy something on a credit card a receipt needs to be presented – the same day. I repeat, I’m cheap.
4. No pooping on the bed.
Wait, what was that? Did you see that fur daughter? That last one, about the poop?
Why then, last night, did I swing my leg on top of the bed covers and my foot hit something soft and a bit damp? And why did I sit up, PICK IT UP, expecting it to be a toy and instead find out it was POO?
Now I do appreciate that it was not the liquid variety but Chloe, seriously?
No bueno dog, no bueno.
We’ll stop at rule 4 because obviously some of us *cough* Chloe *cough* just can’t grasp them.
I’m serious though dog, if you poop on the bed one more time, you’re going to be forced to sleep in the bathroom on fur daddy’s side of the bed.
