Somebody peed on the carpet last night. Upon in ital discovery this morning, which unfortunately was by Buckethead, the peaceful and tranquil morning turned quickly into a pissy one (hehe....get it? Pissy?? You know because someone pee'd?). Whilst scrubbing the carpet, Buckethead glared towards the rear french doors at the three dogs peering through the glass panels. All three looked guilty; all three looked innocent; all three looked terrified.
So, given the fact that I'm the one that brought a third dog into our lives thus making us the crazy dog people, anytime one of the dogs does something wrong in our house I immediately try to shield and defend them in hopes that I too, don't get sent outside with only a water bowl and a squeaky toy.
Mark's voice was starting to sound more like a growl (or Kristi Alley's stomach) leaving me no other choice than to think quick. At this point I'm desperate and my only rebuttal is, "Well maybe it wasn't the dogs, it could have been Mitch".
Nice, Jennifer. Blame the pee stain on your 9 year old stepson. I think a better argument would have been if I had blamed it on myself. Mind you, I had a few cocktails last night followed by a Crunch Wrap Supreme from Taco Hell. Things can happen.