We have been dog sitting this week.
I have taken this as a viable reason to excuse myself from pretty much anything and everything. Completely legitimate, I know.
This is not a long-term solution to life and currently has me on the couch eating marshmallows and keeping a beady eye the Weather Channel, but in the short term, we have a very nice carpet of multi-coloured dog hair and I'm getting my exercise walking both dogs as well as wrestling them to the ground for every infraction in an effort to keep my neighbors from thinking I've started a dog-fighting ring in the back yard. In the interim, however:
Mop the floors? Nah...
Do the dishes? Over rated.
Clean the bathrooms? Why bother.
Find a babysitter? Ugh.
Blog? I think not.
Swim in a sea of dogginess? Looks like a yes.
Let a pack of rabid hounds do post-meal clean up? Why not.
The canines and the boys have taken over the house. I need to go hide in a cocoon of girliness. Do cocoons of girliness exist? I've been in the man-cave for so long that I really just don't know any more.