Unwelcome House Guest

Presenting to you our house guest for the weekend: THE CARPET CLEANER.

This little machine took over most of our days off, joined us for dinner, and can definitely be held responsible for stubbing my toe because all the furniture was totally in the wrong place. We have 7 pairs of soggy socks (each) crowding the laundry basket and have learned that if we want to get fancy we can get rid of the fence and build a moat to keep Mickey in the yard because he hates water even more than we thought he did. He's been prancing around here like the floor is on fire trying to keep his precious paws away from the oh-so-horrid wet.

He may be part cat.

I have had a stern talking to with the dogs and informed them that the next time they want to disrespect my carpet (WHAT? WERE YOU BORN IN A BARN?) they can steam clean the whole damn house themselves. I'll let you know how that pans out.

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Friday's Make it Easier to Handle the Dentist

Omg IT'S FRIDAY!!!! (Wanna read another super excited FRIDAY!!! post? Sure ya do! Here it is!!!).

Guess what John and I are doing this weekend... come on, guess! Ok, I'll tell you. We're going to rent a stupid steamcleaner for our carpets because our STUPID DOGS ARE STUPID.

AND I'm going to nurse my wimpy girly gums because I just braved a trip to the dentist. I hate the dentist. WHO'S WITH ME? You go to the dental office and the dentist is all, "Hmmm, that's interesting. Your gums are bleeding." And you're all, "ARE ALL YOUR OTHER PATIENTS SUPERHUMAN FREAKS WITH TITANIUM GUMS? I don't have titanium gums! I have normal flesh gums that react negatively to being slap chopped with MINI MACHETES."

To be clear, my dentist and dental hygenist are super nice people. They are kind and charming and without a doubt the ONLY PEOPLE I trust to come near my face with any contraption that makes a terrifying weeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE sound.

My issue has more with the fact that dentristy mandates sharp metal pokey things doing acrobatics in my mouth.

While I'm busy with that my dogs are going to run around a bit and then hang out in front of the fire. Tough life.

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Secret Hiding Place for my Winter Underwear

Did a little spring cleaning the other day- decided to put all the winter stuff away and bring out the bright and sunny summer stuff. And this is was the result. Complete and utter frustrating pandemonium. The people who lived here previously forgot to mention that any closet and storage space we thought we saw in each room would shrivel up and die the very second they handed over the keys. The VERY SECOND. "There's a closet" POOF!!!! No more closet. No more cupboards. No more shelves, no more place to put anything, no more AIR. Where did the air go, I could have sworn WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE AIR?!!!??!

Mickey thought it was great fun, of course. We don't care what Mickey thinks.

Turns out there is a bit of storage and its door is conveniently located in the following location:

• underneath the carpet in the closet by the front door (i.e. under the house)

Did you get that? UNDER THE CARPET. As in under it. You have to pull the carpet up. And you have to remove the closet doors in order to pull the carpet up. So the doors were in the living room somewhere.

Don't believe me? Photographic evidence:


Who is their right FREAKING mind would require that you remove closet doors and pull up carpet to get to the access point to ANYTHING? PLEASE TELL ME, FANCY DESIGNERS. Maybe this would be a good place to hide fugitives, or money after I rob a bank, or perhaps even a growth op (that is "bad guy" lingo for a place where one might grow drugs. I think), but I am pretty damn sure my winter UNDERWEAR does not need a secret hiding place.

The image above shows John reaching (reaching!) for air as he heave ho's the aforementioned Winter Underwear.

Right after this we went for dinner and downed our french wine. Can ya blame us? After all of that we should have had two bottles...

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