The best part of today is: WE HAVE NOTHING SCHEDULED!!!! This is a minor miracle. The other best part is I can sit in my front yard in my pajamas and no one cares. Let me clarify; I'm not wearing a neglige (in which case people might turn to stone if they cast a glance upon me and my middle-aged physique) but flannel bottoms and a sweatshirt. And I'm wrapped in a blanket drinking my coffee. This is considered appropriate weekend attire on my street (especially considering we have a batty old lady who routinely walks up and down the street in her inside out pjs and peers into everyone's cars, windows and trash cans).
The kids and neighbor kids have decided that using one of our plastic adirondack chairs as a target would be a good idea. And from an 11 year old boy's perspective it is very ingenious. From the broken chair's perspective, not so much. In case you didn't realize this, children destroy things. Usually it's not intentional but the formula is directly proportional; the higher the concentration of boys the greater likelihood you have for destruction.
Middle kid's best bud moved in across the street. This is a good thing. However, right now they are in a battle over how to calculate points per shot. It's like I'm watching a political debate and tempers are flaring. It's a completely ridiculous and stupid argument and they've already been warned so now they are each in their own penalty boxes on separate sides of the street. Not sure if this is the best way to handle it or if I should just let them work it out themselves but the volume of bickering was starting to disturb my peaceful morning. Now they've crossed to the middle of the street, shook hands and negotiated rules.
This morning our dog (# 2 of 3) relieved himself in my bathroom and closet. I thought one of the boys had failed to flush...Puffy (i realize that some might consider this an effeminate name, but his given name is Puff Doggy and he is quite secure in his masculinity-even though he's a eunuch) took a piss on the corner of a stool and the pee had spread through all the grout lines like little rivers and streams. As if this wasn't enough, he, or possibly dog #3 (the geriatric beast, age unknown, who is vision, hearing and cognitively impaired) took a poop in my closet.
I haven't perfected my turd identification skills so with the absence of DNA testing, I couldn't determine who dropped the 2 desiccated turds. So, they were both cast outside. I suspect it was all the little, middle dog as he is too scared to walk down the hallway leading from our room to the back door. We put one of those buzzer discs under a chair near the path so he wouldn't get on the chair but he's too dumb to realize that his collar wasn't even on his neck. That and I watched the old dog take a poop outside this morning so I could better characterize each dogs' poop. Old dog's poop is more of an orange hue, a bit bigger in diameter and not so dry.
The funny thing about the dog collar alarm system is that whenever one of the batteries goes low in a smoke detector and starts to beep, the dogs freak out. It's psychological torture because they think it's the big dog alarm in the sky. Even though their collars don't buzz, the noise must be the exact same pitch as the dog alarm noise. In a sick an sadistic way, it's kind of funny....
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