Last night I was trying to get ready for bed. Putting things away. Walking in and out of my room in the dark. Talking on the phone. I took off my glasses, kicked off my sandals, and....
Yes, that's right, stepped right into a pile of puppy poop. I couldn't actually register what was happening at first. Probably since I don't have a puppy. Then I put hand down to my foot and it dawned on my that my foot had as my grandmother used to say "dog mess" on it. Then I realized I was stuck. Balancing on one sandal. Not wanting to put the other one down. Cradling the phone on my shoulder. "What is this?" I wondered aloud. The person on the other end of the line "I don't know, I'm not there." Funny. I called out to Frankie and Tom. "Get me a towel, I'm stuck!" I had to call several times to be heard over the video game. Then came the stupid questions "What do you mean stuck?" I repeated my request until they came with a towel. Tom, the bastid, looked amused. Must be the name. Frank gave me the towel, and leaned over to smell my hand. "What is this, CSI?" Then Frankie got mad. He had apparently told a friend who was visiting not to bring the puppy in the house and this is why. He goes off to make an angry phone call.
I am left with the cleanup.
I fail to see the upside of puppies.