I’m amazed the dog hasn’t gotten sucked into the ground…yet. Five million years from now, aliens will dig her up and wonder why in the hell Earthlings were so fat and furry.
We’ve been fighting with the builder ever since we closed on the house–last Halloween–and nothing was ever done. I finally bitched Tucker into contacting our agent and he finally bitched the builder into sending someone over to look at the problem.
Bitched the builder into sending someone over unannounced.
I consider myself–and the dude–lucky that I had on pants and a bra.
Our house is wrecked like a mofo. The yard has Sophie crap everywhere because the yard has been too damn wet for us to walk on it. The guy asked to take a look at the yard and what am I supposed to tell him? No? Right, cause I’d never see the guy again.
You know how when someone new comes over you see everything through their eyes? Surely that’s not just me, right?
I saw the pizza box on the floor from lunch. In my defense, I had been using it as a desk when dude range the doorbell. I saw the random stuff that’s accumulated on the bar. The dog was annoying. Ollie’s nose was running. In other words, I was mortified.
As soon as the guy left, I started cleaning up. I tasked the kids with picking up the backyard. By “tasked the kids” I mean that I had to hover behind them and point out every thing they needed to grab.
I might as well just do it all by myself.
