…because I answered the door this morning in a fluttery white summer dress and did not realize that I had pasta sauce on my left bosom and my slip had fallen around my ankles?
...because (although my family believes this only occurs in my mind) I can smell dog urine EVERYWHERE? It’s the three-legged stool logic: I have dogs (that I don’t like), and dogs have accidents, thus dog urine can be smelled. I can smell unpleasant odors from 100 yards even if they ARE sealed in Tupperware and buried six feet under, although why would a person bury something that smelled so bad anyway? Wait!…I’m starting to see why Lloyd refers to me as his own beloved little crack puppy. And oh, look…something shiny…
…because my house is never clean enough even though if I know someone is coming over I am the equivalent of an 8-person cleaning service for days prior? It’s like a little Merry Maids party in my head while I scrub a toilet with one hand and wipe down a counter with the other, while shooing the dogs away with one foot. I can pinball from vacuuming the living room to Oh! Wait! I must dust that! to The Ensign Magazines need straightening with the one that matches the couches on the top and right back to vacuuming the living room…right after I boil some water with cinnamon so it smells like I’m baking!
…because both my dogs will bite you? Granted one of them is a 15-year-old mini-Daschund with only half her teeth left, and such a big overbite that she’d have to bite you sideways with the two teeth that touch. But the other dog, Elway, is a Shi…Tzu (emphasis on the first syllable), with a Muppet heat and sharp teeth that have punctured skin on several occasions. Both of them will gladly jump all over visitors with either the rancid dog breath of an elderly wiener dog or the frenzied attack dog, Elway, who is a cacophony of barking and growling. Once in a while, Elway will snuggle a visitor like a limp rag doll, but since I never know when that will be, I watch him like a Pit Bull watches raw meat. Hm…Maybe I AM a little crack puppy!
…because, especially in the summer, what with the horses on two sides of us and the deer that bed in what used to be our lawn, our house has more flies than germs (possibly due to the Merry Maid thing)? I can spray, swat, hang up sticky tape, and bags of sparkling water with pennies in them (it’s on Facebook, it must be true!) but they just keep on coming. (OK so I haven’t tried the water/penny thing yet. I’m going to! Come on over and check it out!)
…because our little neck of the woods has had three major fires in twice that many years? And did I mention our house is made of wood?
…because Lloyd often wanders the house cracking jokes we’ve all heard 10 too many times, wild-haired and in gym shorts that show his religion about six inches below their hem. And by the way, he knew you were coming, but forgot to shower and change 'cuz he was surfing the net? He’s my big ol’ beloved caffeinated Baloo the Bear!
…or maybe because I just can’t stop the words tumbling over each other on the way from my brain to my mouth? So a typical greeting (with Elway barking savagely and tucked under my arm while I shoo Olivia, the other dog, away with my left foot) might be: “Hi. Come in. I’m sorry my house smells like dog pee, it’s old and needs a lot of work, and bythewaymydogsbiteandwouldyoulikeacookie?