I woke up to G screaming "No, you're getting poop on the walls!" When I stumbled bleary-eyed into N's room, it was indeed on the walls, but on the floors, toybox and bedding as well. She'd attempted to change a diaper, but got more than she bargained for. D escaped and well, there you go. Pre-coffee, two loads of laundry. Yum.
We have phones through comcast as well. I hosted a bigantous playdate and the frakking phone service was out most of the morning. I called them on my flagging-battery cell phone , and got a generic "lapse of Service in your area" message.
WELL THAT'S JUST SWEET!
Whilst entertaining the first guests, my phone rang. "Yay" I thought, "It's working again!" Ah, but my joy was short lived when it was the elementary school on the phone. They had a doggie there, one who was a "medium sized, German Shepherd mix, escape artist with one milky eye."
"The kids are saying it's G's dog." the secretary said.
"How would they know? "
"They say they know G's dog. I don't know. Is your dog there?" I checked, and well no, Presleydog was indeed not in the yard, and his radio collar was tidily inside, on the window sill, not on his neck. Sigh.
I asked my extra Mommies to watch the kids while I raced the ten minutes to the school. The teacher who'd trapped the dog said a sensible girl in her class (whose name I recognized) ID'd him. How he would travel that far, I didn't know. I met the dog. Not our dog. Grr. Same body, way different head.
So I go BACK home, and as I come in the front door, Presleydog came up the back stairs. Yes. he did.
We went on to have a fun Halloween playdate, with much cuteness, but oh goodness.
Speaking of retrograde, my friend got a speeding ticket on I5 as well. Seriously. 65 in a 60 zone. Shouldn't we citizens of Pugetopolis rejoice when I5 is moving along at 65? Really? Gawd.