Here's what happens in the evening: I put Mac to bed at 8pm. Then, Shef frequently wants to come with me to walk the dog. During the walk, he yaks my ear off about whatever thing - camp or 4th grade or the smell and quantity of various farts. You know. Typical stuff. I love it.
Last night it was dark, and I found myself staring hard at the strip of grass where Skip had last squatted, as I couldn't find the feces. Suddenly a car pulled over and shined its headlights at us. A woman leaned out of the passenger side window and yelled, "We're helping you find your poop!"
"That's very helpful!" I yelled back. "Thanks!"
But still, after like 30 seconds of looking, I still couldn't find it. The dog is small, the poop is small, and the grass was tall.
"I still can't find it!" I shouted, apologetically.
"Well," said the woman. "Good try!"
5 comments:
hahahaa!! This is awesome!
At first I thought that the car driver had to be a really nice person, but then I thought, what a freak.
Just keep driving and leave me the heck alone, car driver.
You handled the situation very well.
I think it's nice and a bit weird of the lady to help you! Enjoy the day!
I really enjoyed this. And I can't believe you're already to P! I keep posting one thing and the next day, I come up with a far superior post for the previous day's letter. Time to get over it and pick up the pace.
The lady must have had the experience herself. I have gone back to the scene of the crime in the AM a couple of times to find the poop because I felt so guilty!
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