You better blog about that sh*t.

So, the hubs decided that this must  be blogged about.

My dogs have rules about where they can be in the house.  They can't be on the furniture, (this makes me sad but the hubs is actually allergic to dogs), and the can't be in the kitchen.  For two reasons, they would beg, and that's just a no-no and my kitchen is tiny, like crazy tiny.  We have a "galley style" kitchen, which is a fancy word for "hallway that barely fits appliances and cabinets."  Seriously y'all I cant open any 2 appliances at once. 

Anyway, the one rule that my dogs cannot seem to get, is stay out of the kitchen.  I am constantly turning around and tripping over a dog.  I mean, I get it.  It's hard for them to resist, that's where the food comes from.  It's hard for me to resist too.  But Jiminey Cricket!

So the other night I was scooping ice cream for J.  Sure enough, there was Boomer.  So I put on my best crooner voice and sang, to no discernible song:

"Boomer, get the fuck out of the kitchen, before I stab you in the eye with this spoon.  But then I'd have to get a new spoon because I don't wanna scoop ice cream with an eyeball spoon."

giggle, giggle, "What was that last part?" asked J.

"Huh?  I was singing to Boomer."

"I know, what was the last line again?"

"Then I'd have to get a new spoon because I don't wanna scoop ice cream with an eyeball spoon."

J Burst into hysterical laughter.  "You had better blog about that sh*t so everyone knows I'm not the only one who says crazy stuff."

And so I did!  The end! :-)

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