Nearly Busted

I should have called this “the post that proves my husband does not ready my blog”.

We often walk our dog off her leash just outside our house because: 1-Venga is very well-behaved so it’s very convenient, and 2-our neighborhood ‘allows’ it since there is little to no traffic and plenty of grass across the street from us.

Plus? I am usually busy chasing my little guy down the pavement, so tracking a dog on top of it all? No way.

As is often the case now, I got tricked into walking Poisson to the nearby playground; the front door was unlocked, Poisson found his way to the front porch and was very determined to keep going. So I helped him down the steps, and off we went!

Just enough time for Venga to follow along and get a little potty break out of it.

I was already far from the house when I realized I didn’t have any plastic bags with me. To pick up the dog poop. (Yes, people do that in America and it makes total sense. It’s the nice result of civil responsibility and good manners.)

Inevitably the dog took a little dump on the path between the house and the playground, and though I took mental note of the spot, I did not actually go back to clean up afterward. (You see, my mind was already busy with what my little boy was going to have for lunch, and mealtimes are quite rough, so as soon as we get home and the drama starts, there is no room for second thoughts — especially not regarding dog poop pick-up!)

But…

The next day, we walked back down to the playground again, the same gang plus my husband.

And guess who stepped in dog poop? You called it! My grumpy husband who mumbled: “Oh no!! Jeez, I’ll tell you some people are just pigs!!!”, as he wiped his soles on the grass and fumed a bit longer.

I was dying inside, I’d already turned around so he could not see the smile that spread across my face, and I continued running after our little boy. I vaguely debated whether or not I should admit it was our dog’s poop under his shoe, and that the pig? Was me!

But I decided to keep this to myself. Until today that is!

That’s not all.

My husband, being a responsible citizen, actually cleaned up the mess he had just stepped in!

And as we returned home, and the dog took a second dump, we ran out of plastic bags. Story of our life. I seriously cannot make this up!

And who volunteers to run home to get another bag? Well, me, of course!

The way I look at it, I totally picked up that first dog poop. By proxy!

I’m sure this happened to you too. Nearly busted, then too busy laughing to admit the fault.

This may be your chance to open up…

P.S.: If you are in a position to alert my husband, don’t do it. Or I may revoke your access to my blog (only if I still have a blog after he finds out I’m a pig and a coward!).

It's so good to have you back! Share your thoughts, I LOVE comments!

18 comments to Nearly Busted

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