I woke up to this:
She ate my broom. Shredded it. And she knew she was in trouble as soon as I walked out of my bedroom. She's not stupid. She's just a toddler in dog years.
Speaking of toddlers. "I changed my pull up, mommy." That's never good. And that's all I'll say about that.
I mowed the yard. I have a riding mower. My yard really only requires a pair of shears and a maybe a small goat. But I own a riding mower. I'd have had enough to buy a push mower with ad revenue from my blog, but wait... I digress. I asked my new neighbors to move their shiny red truck so I didn't hit it with anything from the mower. They did. Then my mower died. I sat out there for ten minutes trying to restart it. Of course, I blew grass all over their driveway. Because I'm not an asshole, I wanted to sweep the grass off of their driveway. But...see the picture above.
So, I got out my leaf blower. (At least I wasn't in my pajamas this time). I spent 10 minutes untangling the extension cord. The dog got out again. My dad has my van so I couldn't use my trick of opening the door to get her back in. Unfortunately, she did not run away.
It's now 11:00. The yard is mowed. The neighbor's driveway is relatively free of grass clippings. The dog is still alive. But it's still early. If you see me walking from the store carrying a bottle in a brown paper bag. Don't stop and ask questions.