Junk piles, rusty tubs, living room explosions.

Have you missed me? I've been gone for a few weeks. 

You didn't notice? Oh. 

Well, read on if you want to feel better about your housekeeping skills. 

You'll remember that John and I welcomed Bruce, a rat terrier mix, to our home. I guess things just weren't lively enough, so we decided to get a puppy. 

But he's been pretty cool.

No poop on the carpet, and he hasn't destroyed our furniture. I think we'll keep him around for a few more days ;)

Unless he happens to wander outside and get lost in this mess...then there's no mercy.

And no, in case you were wondering, this is not our home. Nor is it our junk. But yes, my friends, these are our neighbors. And this is the precious view we are privy to from our bathroom window.

I mean, it's just the view I want to see when I'm soaking in my luxurious, antique cast iron tub.



You mean you wouldn't want to soak away your stresses in here? This isn't your idea of perfect afternoon?

I'm not going to lie, people: This was my bathtub. "WAS" being the key word. I looked out at our neighbor's pile 'o junk, looked at our rust-bucket of a bathtub and decided I was going to do something about it! I was going to stick it to the man! I was going to make a difference!

So I rolled my sleeves and yelled, "I am woman! Hear me roar!"and I scrubbed. I scraped. I cried.

I cried because my tub didn't look pristine. It probably never will.

Who cares?
(Don't answer that.)

Because really, once I got done scrubbing my tub, it was dark. And my living room looked like this.

Perhaps a bomb went off? No. Maybe a strong wind? Nope. Master Splinter and Batman (resident rodents) were battling for territory? Likely, but not this time. The cause?

Two dogs. Enough said.

Have you met Bruce yet?

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