Posted on 11/16/2015 12:02:20 PM PST by blueunicorn6
I had just walked through the front door when I heard those words that send chills up the spine of every man.
"This is why we can't have anything nice!"
It was my wife. I put the mail on the stairs while I tried to figure out if I could make it back out the front door without her hearing me. I knew I couldn't. The woman can hear what I think, for crying out loud.
Now, I had to determine who did it while I was still unseen. There are always three likely culprits:
1. Me 2. The Boy 3. The dogs.
There are actually three dogs, but they work as a team, so I only count them once.
The Boy had been at school all day, so I counted him out. He is half his Mom, so she has a hard time getting after him anyway.
That left me and the dogs. If it was me, she would probably wait until I was in the room to say anything. I sometimes think she missed her calling. She would have been a great prosecutor.
"Members of the jury.....There! There is the guilty rat that makes it impossible for us to have anything nice!"
Perry Mason would have retired if he would have ever faced her in a courtroom.
I wasn't in the room, so that meant the dogs were in trouble.
She only uses the "This Is Why We Can't Have Anything Nice" accusation when something gets broke or dirty.
I gathered up my courage and went into the family room.
It was the dogs.
The three of them sat there with their ears and heads hanging down looking appropriately repentant. Except the Little One. He was glaring at my wife like Bill Clinton when he looked into the camera and told everyone he didn't have sex with that woman. I immediately knew it was him. He was the guilty one. But what was he guilty of.
I swept the room looking for broken pieces or dirt. There it was....on the couch.....muddy paw prints. Ohhhhh, he was going to get it for that.
I have seen dogs wearing galoshes. It is hilarious. The dog thinks it is some kind of sadistic torture. The put their legs way out when they walk because they aren't sure how big the galoshes are. And the dog always has this look on his face like,
"What did I ever do to you to deserve this?"
Maybe if we'd give them an umbrella to go with the galoshes they might understand it better.
Our dogs don't wear galoshes. They don't wear ties, either. This keeps them out of some of the fancier restaurants, but they can't afford those places anyways. I can't afford those places and I actually make money. OK, the dogs have better table manners than me, but table manners don't pay the bill or tip the waiter. Dogs are horrible tippers. Real cheapskates.
Well, muddy paw prints on the couch. The Girl's paws were clean. The Youngest Brother's paws were clean. The Little Dog's paws were filthy. I waited to hear his alibi.
Yes, he had muddy paws, he explained, but that was all in service of his family. He was, he said, digging a bomb shelter for us. What a rotten little liar. I knew dang well that he had been out in back burying my underwear again. Now it was time to see how the wife would handle this.
She walked back and forth in front of the furry, four-legged fools.
"Oh, how can I be mad at my babies!", she cried, and gave them all a hug.
I figure I'll have the three dogs with me when I tell her that it was me who got dirt on the carpet. But first, I have to go out back and dig up some of my underwear. I'm starting to get a skin burn on my behind.
I think the dogs are doing what they do. It’s the women and the chinless men who let them adopt the dogs as their emotional and possibly sexual companions who are responsible for this.
I’m with Mom on this. We have six cats and that is why we can’t, and never will again, have anything nice. I pretty much gave up on that and have resigned myself that our retirement years will not be “shabby chic”, but just “shabby”. At least they don’t smell, and that’s something.
Animals are to live outside.
Dealer’s choice.
Animals don’t live in my house no matter where my house is.
OK, so the “looking defiant as Bill Clinton” part was the funniest.
LOL! Yep. my wife can think I am the devil incarnate, but her kids!? Mad and then 2 minutes later all is forgiven.
‘’glaring at my wife like Bill Clinton when he looked into the camera and told everyone he didn’t have sex with that woman.’’
An even better look of Clinton’s was when he was asked the cigar question. Priceless! He had no clue that was coming.
Yeah, but despite the carnage, I bet you still put up a Christmas tree every year.
‘’I bet you still put up a Christmas tree every year.’’
Nope. No Christmas tree for eight years. We tried it once; it didn’t work out. (We can’t have anything nice.)
That was hilarious.
"SH*T!!!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irSC4-j_NjY
Enjoy.
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