(More than) Fourinarow.net

Like I said earlier today, you can’t make this shit up.

Tonight, Dan was busy elsewhere.  Home alone, I put the kids down, and snuggled up with the baby to watch a movie.

Throughout the movie, I had to hit pause to holler at my youngest (before baby) to GO TO BED.

At 9:32, my sister called to check up on me.  I had just put the baby down and we started chatting.  While we talked, the dog barked to be let in and I got up and opened the door.  The baby started fussing.  Putting the baby off a bit, I paced and continued to talk.  I started to notice a very foul odor.  “What is that?” I thought.  And, as I watched my dog rub her entire body against the leather chair, it dawned on me that she had been skunked.  YET AGAIN.

My sister tried her best not to laugh out loud as I hung up the phone.

The baby cried louder, needing to be fed.

I threw the #$%#! dog outside, thinking that the neighbors were just going to have to deal with it if she barked.  My baby needed to eat.

Damn that dog.

While I nursed, I watched some more of my movie.

Thankfully Andrew fell asleep and I was able to put him down.

I paused my movie, put the baby down and, cussing, got out my deskunking supplies and whipped up a batch of potion.  As I walked out my front door (the skunk is in the back) to give the dog a bath, who is there but my neighbor.  The perfect one, out walking her perfect dog, with a flashlight to smartly keep the skunks away.  “Oh, no!” she said.  “Oh, yes!” I replied.

Donning my beautiful purple playtex rubber gloves, I bathed my dog, flooding the front yard and entertaining the neighborhood in the process.

I dried the dog off and, finished with the nasty business, I then had to bathe myself.  With the house unbelievably quiet, I took a hot, cleansing shower.  As I stepped from the tub, I swung my towel around to dry myself off…

…and the end of it landed in the toilet.