For the second night in a row, Bear (hereafter referred to as the Obnoxious
Little Snot) has had a bath and I have swept and mopped the kitchen.  Guess
why?  Go on guess... well, it seems the Obnoxious Little Snot has figured
out a way to get to the rather large rubber tree plant sitting safely out
of range in the kitchen.  Never mind that there is absolutely NO WAY
according to all the known laws of physics for the OLS to actually reach
the plant.  Never mind that I detest mopping the kitchen and the OLS is
fervently opposed to baths of all sort.  Never mind that the sole reason
the rubber tree plant is sitting on a chair in the kitchen looking stupid
instead of sitting on the floor in the den looking decorative is that the
OLS has a distinct fondness for chaos, digging in particular.  Oh no.  The
OLS has to go and figure out a way to access the rubber tree plant and the
dump truck load of dirt that apparently fits in the planter.  And then has
the thought to spread it artistically about the white kitchen linoleum.
Not only is it a metric ton worth of dirt, but it's very nice potting soil
with the consistency of dryer lint.  "Fine" does not even begin to describe
it.  And the OLS thinks it is a fine new toy within which to frolic.  Down
to the root ball we've excavated.  On top of that, now the OLS is zinging
out from under the computer chair to bite me on the ankle because he's mad
about the bath.  Like it's my fault muddy potting soil is glaring apparent
on a white ferret.  Like I shouldn't notice.  Dum dee dum, nope I don't see
the trail of muddy footprints across the bathroom floor and the peat moss
on the whiskers.  And sure, your little pink nose has a great tan now.  I'm
sure that's it.
 
Why can't they learn to run the vacuum instead?
 
Anne
Four Little Angels (for now)
and the Obnoxious Little Snot
[Posted in FML issue 3394]