sick of this shit
This shit--it's not metaphorical. It's actual shit. I do realize that some bodily waste falls under the auspices of my stay-at-home-momness but it's getting a bit ridiculous.
Between an infant with a four day case of diarrhea (called the doc, it's a virus and we're just waiting it out) and a recalcitrant cat who's taken umbrage with the location of his litter box, I've had it up to here with other creatures' shit.
I'm going to start buying corks any day.
Between an infant with a four day case of diarrhea (called the doc, it's a virus and we're just waiting it out) and a recalcitrant cat who's taken umbrage with the location of his litter box, I've had it up to here with other creatures' shit.
I'm going to start buying corks any day.
2 Comments:
Sorry to hear about your abundance of shit. Here at the Beehive, Che has been eating too much paper and is now constipated, about which I had a charming conversation with my neighbours' well-intentioned son. He recommends applesauce for the relief of canine constipation. So I gave Che a couple of spoonfuls; have also advised Scott to monitor Che's paper intake. Sigh.
Maybe I should start feeding Owen paper?
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