My poor, sweet Marc. Tonight, as I was watching the dogs do their business in the back yard, he came to the back door to show me something.
In his hand, he held a sample of one of the carpets we'll be having installed in the new house. On this was a little pile of dog fur.
The collection of fur didn't surprise me. The vacuum has yet to be run this weekend, and our dogs (especially Dodger) drop fur at a staggering rate. So, unless you walk in moments after vacuuming, it's not hard to gather up a little bit of fur.
Even so, I couldn't figure out what Marc was showing me. Was there a collection of fur in one spot, so he picked it up and was carrying it to the trash? I didn't think the situation was that bad in the living room just now, but it was possible.
If that was the case, it still didn't explain why he was using the carpet sample to carry a "doggy dust bunny" to the trash. So we stood there for a moment. I looked at the fur, then at Marc, then at the fur, then at Marc.
At that point Marc broke the silence, saying, "that's what it will look like on the new carpet." With that, he dumps the fur in the trash, walks back to the living room and puts the carpet sample back in with the rest of the renovation material.
I love the boy, but somebody get a net! :)
1 comment:
Fritz and I have very different approaches to housework. I'm not obsessive but I can't stand it when I'm walking around my house and stuff begins to crunch under my feet. He has a MUCH more laissez-faire approach to the whole thing at his place--the man's gay but he's still a GUY.
But when we're together for long periods of time and I bring my cat, suddenly eveything's picked up, the vacuum's been used--there's even evidence of dusting!
Not for me, mind you, for my cat.
I'm ga-ga over the man.
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