Our time in the woods is over. We mopped the floors and locked up. It was nice while it lasted... All that green. All those trees. Reminded me of summer camp. Minus the adolescent awkwardness and unrequited crushes.
And the terrible camp food.
And the daily chores.
Never mind. It was nothing like camp.
Morty's bummed out about it, as you can see. He seemed to like the woods. Particularly that whole off-leash thing. And he could poop wherever he wanted! Heavenly!
Aw, muffin. Isn't he getting big? I actually hurt my back picking him up the other day.
I did something silly last night. I downed a pitcher of beer on an empty stomach. I'm not sure what possessed me, but I can tell you this: it's a little weird not to remember the walk home. Or the crawl? Anyhow...
I'm playing at Irene's next week. Do y'all want to come? It's going to be a good time, I promise.
2 comments:
Poor puppy. I know how he feels. Not that I can poop wherever in the woods while I was on holidays... however, I didn't have to look pretty.
Which night are you playing?
Ya, which night are you playing? And don't worry. I think you have to be 35 before you stop making grave errors in judgement with regards to alchohol.
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