I'm sitting here in soaking wet pajama bottoms, risking a possible death by electrocution, just so I can type these four little words, "What was I thinking?" No, the answer to that question isn't waterfalls, and, no, I didn't drink too much water or tea before going to bed and pee all over myself in my sleep. I decided to bathe the dogs. Yes, I'm quite aware that it's almost midnight here on the east coast, but I couldn't take Bella's itching or Bailey's doggy dandruff any longer.Now I love Bella to death. I'd gladly trade lives with her in an instant. However, she whines when she scratches. If she scratches for too long, the dumb blonde in her forgets why she began whining to begin with, and as a result she starts howling at the top of her lungs, not in pain but out of sheer stupidity. I know this because it's the same howl that she makes every time that I'm out of her sight for more than five seconds, a leaf falls in front of her, or she sees her reflection in the mirror. Bailey's dandruff, meanwhile, isn't just a random flake here or there. It's a downright snowfall. If Johnson & Johnson made Head & Shoulders for dogs, they'd hire him as a model in a heartbeat, bad teeth, underbite, and all.
So now I'm wet. The dogs are wet. My bathroom floor is wet, and about 10 minutes from now my bed will be wet as well. A wet bed means that I'm going to have to turn off my electric blanket, or else there won't be any posts tomorrow. After all, a fried corpse can't type, now can it? The unplugged electric blanket, in turn, means that I'm going to freeze all night. Freezing all night means that I probably won't sleep well. A bad night's sleep means that I'll be grumpy as hell tomorrow, which means that my posts won't be all full of happiness and joy. (I know. When are they ever?)
Like I said at the beginning, "What was I thinking?" The obvious answer: not a whole lot.
