While moseying on down to Luke's room, I smell a horrid stench. "Stench" is the correct term for it, I believe. It came from way downstairs, where the dog was sleeping. It was a powerful smell.
Did I immediately run downstairs to check it out? No, I kept going to Luke's room, figuring
And it would have been fine, except even the poor pup couldn't stand the smell. Or maybe it was because she was going to be sick again. Or maybe it was because she just wanted more sympathy than zero from me. So she barked. You can't very well have a barking dog at 12:10 a.m., can you? No, dammit!
Yeah, she'd been sick. Yeah, the smell was worse as you neared it. Yeah, the kind of smell that you want to keep out of your system so to avoid the powerful gag reflex. Yeah, the kind of smell that ranks up there with the Top 5 the kids ever produced as babies. Blech.
I've come up with an equation to describe the end result:
Sick dog
+ Stench
+ Knock-off Febreze-like product from Albertson's
Slightly sweet smelling horrid stench.
[And to think I was wondering as I went to sleep last night whether I had anything left to post about!]
1 comment:
I'm glad I didn't follow you there.
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