As we were driving to the bar to meet up with friends tonight, Jamie asked me where I had left all the homework that I had graded all day.
“I think I put it away in the closet,” I said.
“Not on the floor?” he asked.
“No, in the closet… I’m pretty sure,” I responded. But then I began to doubt myself.
“Maybe we should turn back so I can double check?” I asked.
“No. It’s fine. I’m sure,” he responded.
Well, we got home to a FINE MESS thanks to Memphis The Destroyer. Thankfully, I had not put my homework in the closet but up high enough to where she couldn’t get at it. Instead she took out her anger at us making the EVIL decision to leave the house out on some grocery sacks.
I swear. This dog’s gonna be on Prozac pretty soon. (Like as soon as the vet OKs it.)