Boredom set in early today. Maybe it was the gloomy day. Maybe it was because I was sick. But it was pretty dull around the Turner house today.
I'm happy to announce that I've been approved through Petfinder.com and now have a VERY simple Petfinder presence. Since there are no cats for adoption, the only phone calls I've been receiving are from people who have either found a cat or want to surrender a cat. It doesn't take long, does it? I've asked for new volunteer foster homes beginning in January, so hopefully we'll be able to start rescuing soon. :)
I have a confession to make. Anybody who is married or living with a partner might be able to relate to what I'm about to confess.
Last night at 3 a.m, our VERY old dog "Maggie" started whining to go outside. She went back and forth - first to me....then to David. She'd periodically give a high pitched YIP!, but we basically both ignored her. I ignored her because I was sick and felt that David needed to get out of our warm bed and let her outside. Somewhere at 4 a.m, in a huff I whipped back the covers, put on a robe and trudged downstairs to let Maggie outside to pee. She came back dutifully, and I decided to use the washroom while I was up.
To my horror, my poor old dog must've had some pretty urgent tummy troubles at 3 a.m, because there in front of the toilet was the BIGGEST pile of diarrhea I had ever seen. She must've walked all around the washroom letting it drip. It was awful and I felt terribly guilty for ignoring her for an hour. But maybe not guilty enough, because I used another washroom in the house and tiptoed back to bed, leaving the mound of diarrhea in the washroom floor.
David gets up at 5 a.m. to go to work. I knew he'd be the first to see it. I heard him turn off the alarm clock and pull back the covers. Something I've heard him do hundreds of times in our marriage. He walked into our washroom and I could hear him stop. He sighed. He coughed. I buried my head into the pillow to stifle a laugh. I could hear him pull tissue after tissue out of the box of Kleenex. The toilet must've flushed a dozen times.
I feel guilty. I really do. I've been bored all day and the poor guy had to clean up a HUGE pile of poop before leaving for work at 6 a.m.. Me? I had my nails done, took cold medicine, and read a book by the fire. I suck.
Here's the evidence of my boredom:
Looks like I have some making up to do this weekend. French Maid outfit might be coming out. :)