embarrassing myself · pesty pets

on underwear and condoms and The Dog

Okay, so I already knew that The Dog liked my underwear. Dirty, clean, doesn’t matter. I come home and there’s at least one or two pairs secreted in plain sight in my living room.

Now, I find that whilst chewing on the delicates, he likes to be protected. If I had a camera, I would include a picture, but just try to imagine this:

I go downstairs. I’m walking into the living room. In bare feet.

I step on something squishy.

I look down.

My foot is firmly planted on an (unused) condom. Wrapper is a chewed up mess on the couch.

Not something you ever thought to find on your living room floor, in the middle of the day. Or any time of the day, really. Thank goodness I don’t have dudes walking in unannounced, otherwise that could be a little awkward.

I make a note to myself to place condoms in a secure container from here on out. Those fuckers are expensive!

I’m off to go take the Kid to see Ice Age: The Meltdown. I know, I know, everyone’s jealous. I will provide a play-by-play review upon my return so that you all can save the $20 it will cost to take your kids to see it. You will be able to just read them my blog as a bedtime story and all will be well.

2 thoughts on “on underwear and condoms and The Dog

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