Flossing with sand!
Night has come, the darkness and quiet while Two and a half men play on the TV. Well into the next chapter with the banal show flickering away, I realized it was one of the better episodes with the late-great Michael Clarke Duncan in it.
While I am imagining the world and trying to write, Honey, the big yellow love bug, climbs on the sofa and forces her way behind my back.
“Oof, excuse me, oof OOF! Sorry, I’m in your way? oof.” Finally she is , sort of settled.
Back to typing, trying to describe a handsome…
UGH! Tongue! In my ear!
I turn my face to the smiling countenance of the big, boulder-headed dog that cleanses my face with an oversized slurp. Knocking my glasses off.
The back of my neck, behind my ears…all the loving kisses of bribery.
*Sigh* she is not about to do anything more than sit there and let me know she is awake and I am her point of pleasure.
So five minutes of ruination of my shower from earlier. (Everything is better with saliva?) I have another >quick< shower in my immediate future after I write this.
She gives the back of my head, neck, both ears, face a licking that distracts me from this world of horror that is evolving in my head.
Okay okay! So now she is in control of that sofa cushion, right were she wanted to occupy in the first place.
Now the next thing, how can I get her from her creation of evil smells? I mean, seriously, it’s like a noxious green cloud that exudes up from her tail– and she dares blame the cat!
Not so much the smell, it’s the tearing up of the eyes, I can’t see the screen for typos.
I’ll never win, she does this, and what do I say to her later?
Another buzzing sound from under her tail and a doggy grin when I call her on it.
I’d sigh, but that means I have to take a deep breath of the atmospheric poison she cut loose. I should tell her she is violating the Geneva Convention.
Suddenly, two gagging breaths later, having hermit crabs as pets does not seem like such a bad idea.