Let's not talk about how fast it took me to eat it once I got over cutting into the lovely decorations. Thank goodness we got the TV hooked up in front of the treadmill. Otherwise, it would have been a weekend of staring at that Norman Rockwell print.
Anyway, I was giving janjanmom a tour of the new house, and I was all blah blah new lighting this and yak yak counter tops that. I walked into the dining room to show her the cute little Hula Girl napkins Teen Angel got me for Christmas when I stepped in the biggest dog turd ever. It appears the dog had NOT endured my marathon trip to the grocery store and the beauty shop Friday as well as I had thought and he had pooped in the dining room. To make matters worse, I accidentally sent some of it rolling underneath the hutch, where it now sits waiting for me to find the yardstick to fish it out from under there. Nice. I'm sure she failed to notice much of anything else on the tour because her head was probably screaming, "She had dog poop in her dining room!" the whole time.
Now, fortunately janjanmom is a down to earth, understanding person who has three children and a big dog, so she's dealt with a little poop in her time. However, that doesn't make me feel any less embarrassed about the whole thing. It will give us a good laugh in the coming years. When we're old, wearing gold shoes and playing Bingo, she can lean over to me and cackle, "Hey, remember that time the dog crapped in your dining room and you kicked that turd under the hutch?" We'll laugh and wheeze and wonder out loud why the kids don't come to see us more often.
In the meantime, please know dear readers that you are welcome in my home anytime and you definitely won't have to worry about using the right fork or a tea towel between dinner courses. You might however, want to watch where you step. Now, about that yardstick.......