The Runs

It pains me to have my first post in almost three weeks be titled 'The Runs.' But I can't help it that I:

1. Try to find the silver lining in almost all less than desirable situations, and

2. Am a horrible housewife, a fact previously documented on this blog.

Earlier this week, I came home after work to find our sweet little black lab, Bailey, cowering and shaking almost uncontrollably as I opened the front door. She'd done something bad and she knew it. I knew it too a few steps into the house.

The Wendy's bag I was holding no longer desirable (the new boneless wings combo with a Sprite), I set everything down in order to fully comfort Bailey. Yes, it is sweet that I chose the health and well-being of my animal over five minutes of bliss on my front porch eating the bold buffalo spiciness I smelled the entire way home. But Bailey also has bladder control issues when she's extremely nervous or excited, and I didn't want to clean up two messes.

With Bailey finally calmed down and settled on her bed, I proceeded to the kitchen to assess the damage. Two main points of deposit, runny, but no carpeting or rugs involved. Not as horrible as I was expecting.

I dug out the pet cleaner, Lysol, several plastic grocery bags and as many paper towels as I could grab, and got to work. As I was down on the floor cleaning, a yellow Wendy's napkin stuffed up my nose for gag protection, I thought "Hey, at least part of the kitchen floor will get its first good scrub in about three months." And after a flash of guilt, I briefly considered scrubbing the rest. But I had those wings waiting...come on, you would have done the same thing.