I know I've already told you we had a week of Dogs On the People Bed recently, but here's the proof. Yeah, it pretty much looks like the last time.
The difference is that this time, while taking the picture, The Typist was sort of hopping up and down on one foot, so as not to bleed on the carpet with the other foot. She insisted on getting the shot of us before she got a Band-Aid.
You see, somebody left a bone in the major thoroughfare of the living room, which The Typist chose to enter in the dark, barefooted. And the bone in question had been nicely sharpened by hours of concentrated gnawing.
I don't really "get" irony, but according to her, the irony of it is that her reason for going into the dark room to grab the camera off the end table was to take a picture of her cute, cute poppies.
Who, while staying on the bed, managed to indirectly cut up The Typist's toe.
I hear that little thumb-havers sometimes do the same thing with Legos.
Oh, her toe is okay now. But she's been much more careful in the dark lately.
1 comment:
Oh the pain of stepping on a Lego. Oh the words I have said that a preacher shouldn't say. If I didn't love to play with them so much I'd pitch out the whole lot of them. But the pain in my toe goes away after a few minutes, whereas the desire to play does not.
Still, you should be more careful where you leave your bones laying around, or pay the Typist more to clean up after you. Typists are never paid enough. You guys are beautiful.
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