... from all these questions. You know how much I hate thinking. It taxes what little resources I have left.
What is your favorite supper for a hot summer evening? This is a hard one, as Hubster and I don't eat much of anything anymore. I even asked him what the answer is, and he had no idea; instead, he rambled on about his favorite meal when he was a kid. I don't give a flying fuck about what he ate. His parents and I have a mutual hate society going on, so the less I hear about anything having to do with them, the better. That being said, the only thing I can think of is anything that doesn't require cooking indoors, which boils down to BBQ. Because we don't have A/C, if this little house heats up, we're doomed.
And with that, I have to go take a shower because Emma has bathed me with her doggie love kisses, which means I smell like a wet dog/person. Totally unacceptable for taking her to her puppy classes. Or maybe that's the one place where nobody realizes how bad they smell.
She just stole my slipper off my foot and ran across the room with it, head held high and prancing. The little shit.
'Scuse me.
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Everyone smells like a dog at those classes, that is part of the charm of being a dog owner. We think we smell fine but, the dog has to make sure we smell like them. Come home from someone else's house with a dog and see what that little nose is doing, it is all over your legs making sure you weren't cheating on them with another dog. They are so funny! I can just see that bully prancing off with a smile on that face and that slipper in her maw!
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