Blogging in the shower causes 2nd degree burns

Harley slept through the night last night. Of course when I got up with him this morning he had a turd stuck in his butt hair. At 7 AM I'm taking a scissors to my dog's ass. Don't you wish you had my life?

Speaking of the dog. Who the hell had the great idea of making me responsible for another thing that eats and craps and pees? Trying to do something complicated like showering has become even more complicated by the fact that I have a baby. A baby who cries when I'm more than 2 inches from him. And then he gets brave and wanders 6 inches away and piddles. On. The. Floor. Crying and peeing. Did I really sign up for this? All you mothers of little babies are laughing at me right now. I know. And I get it. I have been chasing around my Things trying to keep them from peeing on the floor for over 13 years now. OK, that's not true. They never peed on the floor. And therein lies my problem. I could slap a diaper on a kid, toss him in the crib and ignore his whimpers long enough to oh, I don't know, brush my teeth maybe? But the puppy? He pees. He pees in random places at random times. It's a damn good thing he's cute because the peeing? I'm not a fan. Of course, he is only 9 weeks old right now so I don't think he even knows when he's peeing, and it will get better. Better much faster than you all can teach your kids to quit biting their sister and drawing on the walls, so there is that.

Speaking of peeing on the floor... well no, there wasn't any peeing involved in this story but I couldn't come up with a good transition. There's something y'all need to know about me. I'm a freaking awesome blogger. I tell the most amazing random wandering stream of consciousness stories. The problem is that I never come up with these stories when my cheeks are planted in front of the computer. Of course not. My muse likes to strike when I'm driving or watching a movie or showering. Yes, some of my best blogging material happens pops into my head while I'm naked. Now don't you feel dirty? This morning when I was trying to NOT think about the puppy peeing and crying I was also getting clean, or dirty, depending on how you want to look at it. I have a waterproof toy and since I'm not having sex right now (another story) I am stocking up on batteries. So while I'm, well, you know, suddenly I start thinking about a post. The not having sex post. Composing it in my head knowing full well that I will have forgotten at least half of the witty remarks before my boobs are dry. But still, I'm mentally composing when my water tight love toy was not so water tight. And I was shocked. Yes. I'll let you think about that for a minute.
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So now that my girly bits are singed and I completely forgot to shave my left leg, what with the smoke coming from between my thighs... I've decided that you all do not belong in my shower anymore. You're distracting and as much as I love you, I need my space too.

As for the not having sex. I'm not having it right now. Perhaps I'll explain more later. After I put burn cream on my party place.

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