Now, this day was, volume-wise, a pile of dog doo. And not even cute Elmer-doo. But The Besst thing was a doozie:

The coming weekend is pretty booked solid, and so if I didn’t want us to be wading around in dog hair next week all the chores had to be done before Friday. So I slogged home from my twelve-straight-hours-of-dog-doo on Thursday knowing that I was going to have to steam clean the entire downstairs floor, and not do what I wanted to do, which was either

a. Lie on the couch and drink copiously OR

b. Sit on the couch and embroider copiously.

“a” and “b” are mutually exclusive.

But I got home and found Youngest Son, Interrupted INSISTING that he do the floors. Which he did. As it turned out, Dad, Interrupted wound up helping in that effort.

I didn’t get to drink copiously, which is probably a good thing. But I didn’t have to steam clean the floors.

(I’m not saying that my job is dog-doo, mind you; Thursday was, though.)

© E. Stocking Evans 2013