At one point today, I found myself having a little conversation in my head.
"Am I cleaning up two year old pee or 14 year old dog pee? Should it matter? Is it grosser to clean up dog urine than little girl pee.....dog pee I think...this must be Keeley's...I'll just believe it's Keeley's so it's not quite so gross. This has to be Keeley's...what the...what's THIS puddle?? Didn't I just let the dog out? Didn't Keeley just sit on the potty? Did the timer go off and I didn't hear it? Should I be setting the timer for the dog? Is this what my life has come to.....cleaning up after assorted beings with limited bladder control?"
That's a rhetorical question. You don't have to answer it for me. I do worry that I ask myself so many questions. Do you think that's odd? The asking myself questions, not the worrying.
On what I thought was a different note today, I succumbed to Eilidh's nagging to get a fish. Eilidh had the bowl on the kitchen counter, admiring the fish's rainbow beautifulness, when it uh....pooped. There I was, with a spoon, scooping out fish poop from its bowl, the fish thrashing around quite grotesquely I may add.
Fish poop is worse than incontinent 14 year old dog and 2 year old Keeley pee. No doubt.
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