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We're dogsitting. I don't like dogs. It's really nothing I have against dogs. Except for the slobber and the dog breath, that's pretty awful. I just don't particularly like animals. And this dog is a puppy. An obnoxious, overly hyper, furniture jumping, kid knocking over, licking, slobbering, barely housebroken smelly puppy. And I'm annoyed. I just had to go take her nasty head out of the nasty litter box because she was eating cat shit. (I don't like cats either, but Nick left all of them with me when he left. Even though I now live in a two bedroom apartment where I could be evicted if my landlord found animals here. Because even though they are his cats, I am the whore who cheated on him and I must be punished.) Also, every time we let the damn puppy outside to shit, she wanders around outside, pees on everything, and then comes back inside and shits in the middle of the boys' bedroom carpet. Which I leave for Paul, because it's his buddy's dog. I have a cold, I can't smell anything anyway. Speaking of Paul, he finally cheered the fuck up last night. The baby was doing his (his!) nightly somersaulting nausea-inducing exercises so I made him come over to feel it and that got him. 533333333333333333333333333333333333333333. (Sorry, Nickolas wanted to help for a minute. That is a real big number, he says.) He got this big smile on his face and said, "I can't believe I finally get a boy." Phew. He just doesn't excite very easily, which after seven years of Nick shrieking at bugs and freaking out about every entry in my phone log is hard for me to adjust to. Oh good, the stupid dog is eating cat shit again. I can't wait until she vomits. I think this time she'll go in her cage. Because I'm an evil stepmother. Well, I have mountains of laundry to do. I have to work tonight and I haven't washed my uniform in like a week. I only work four hour shifts so it's not that bad, but still. I should probably have clean clothes. Paul washed some of the boys' clothes a few days ago and I still haven't put them away. I should do that too. Oh wait, I just found a steaming pile of shit in the middle of my bedroom floor. First thing I'm doing is killing that fucking dog. Kids are: Strangely quiet. Playing Xbox, I think. Last person who pissed me off: Fucking dog. Heard in my house: "Can I play Xbox because my room is clean? But don't go look in my room." Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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