Charlie Brown just called me at work.
I am officially losing my mind.
CB – “So, uh, what happened at the house this morning?”
Me – “Huh?????”
CB – “Well, Grace” (our black lab) “was out front, and the back door was WIDE. FREAKING. OPEN.”
Me – “Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh craaaaaaaaaaaaaaap. Uhm, yeah. Nothing happened, I’m just a retard.”
See folks, it is like this…
Gracie has turned into an escape artist, which means for the past 6(ish) months she has been kept inside, instead of left in her dog run (which has 6 ft. fencing and yet she still manages to get out). This means that occasionally; too freaking often, I get home and there are, uhm, presents. Yeah, totally grossness.
We’ve since figured out that if Grace gets to do her stuff outside, and that means, ALL of her stuff, not just the easy PEEzy stuff that she does without telling, in the morning – voila! No presents.
Today I was in the perpetual mother rush, and put Grace in her dog run to do her stuff, leaving the door open to remind me that I needed to put her back in the house and lock up, ran the kids down the two houses it is to our day-care, walked back home, and completely disregarded my reminder, leaving happily for work.
It seemed so fool-proof at the time. Instead, it seems my mind has completely left the building, no??
Wow, the intelligence of dogs! Our neighbor's Jack Russel figured out that if he started on our side of the yard and ran as fast as his legs would take him across the yard and he could run straight up the eight foot wood fence...then it was over to our front porch to excite our dog.
ReplyDeleteAt least you husband drove by while she was still in your yard.
Please could you ask Charlie Brown to drive past our house too... I, too, suffer from nappy-brain or - to give it its official medical title - Maternal Amnesia.
ReplyDeleteYou are not alone!