Last evening was supposed to be a period of calm, quiet time. A time I counted on to get caught up with everything I needed to have ready for school today. Rich took the kids off to their final swimming lessons of the session. I decided to surprise them with some fresh-baked cookies. After throwing a batch in the oven, I sat down at the computer to type up some things.
But not two minutes later, the door bell is ringing. Grabbing a robe, as I'm clad in my summer pjs, I went to find our neighbor from down the street standing there on our porch. He wanted to let me know that Bacon had somehow gotten out of the backyard and was running free. Sure enough, I as I stepped out I saw the little escapee four houses down in the opposite direction. Now, I couldn't exactly be angry...I mean, any pooch is going to take the opportunity, when given, to get out and see a bit of the world, right? But I was a bit irked that he refused to come back upon hearing me yelling at him to do just that.
Then, before even making it out of our own yard, I managed to step on a thorn-like object measuring approximately 1.5 inches in length. Ouch. Really. So now, we don't just have a fat woman running down the street in her pajamas calling her damn dog, we have a fat woman running down the street in her pajamas calling her damn dog...and leaving a trail of blood. Oh yes, I'm sure it was a lovely sight.
Well, many thanks are owed to my neighbor at the corner who went out and caught the selectively deaf beagle in question. It is somewhat nightmarish to even imagine what I must have looked like. But to add insult to injury, by the time I got back to the house, the smoke alarm was going off. Upon returning from swimming just minutes later, the kids all opted for ice cream sandwiches over freshly burnt cookies.