"May I remind you that you're the one who originally wanted a bulldog."
"May I remind you who his favorite is."Well, I am his favorite. And it's hard to remember what my life was like before Bumpkin. But that certainly doesn't mean that I should be expected to scrub his boogies off the walls all by myself. Just in time for our annual Oscar party next weekend, we're doing our annual boogie cleaning this weekend.
If you've never owned a bulldog, you probably think this sounds a bit nuts. I'm not talking about the kind of boogies that you discreetly try to remove from your nose while you're parked at a red light or alone in the supermarket aisle. Our Bumpkin accumulates eye boogies in his eye fold several times a day. And if we don't catch them and wipe them off, he proceeds to shake his head and sends them flying to land everywhere and anywhere ... on the walls, on my pajamas, in our nibble's hair. I'm even trying to teach the nibble how to remove them from Bump's face with a tissue, although he's having a hard time grasping the concept of boogies residing somewhere other than in the nose.
Each boogie eventually dries to a hard, crusty, dark reddish-brown remnant on our walls. In the hopes of easier and faster boogie removal, our next home will have ultra-glossy paint on every single wall, even in the stairways and hallways. For now, we need to spend a decent amount of time removing the boogies with a bucket of soapy water, a scrub brush and two rags.
If it were up to the hubby, we would just leave them there until our walls resembled some sort of abstract art wallpaper. In fact, if it were up to him, I'm not sure we'd ever clean our house. We've been together for nearly 11 years, but I have yet to learn how to ignore his finely-tuned art of grumbling and groaning. But luckily, he has yet to tune out my clean-freak tendencies.
So tonight, I'm writing this post from a dining room table without a wall boogie in site. Oh wait ... Bump, come back, let me get that ... nevermind.
What were your thoughts on the Oscars this year? Morning radio shows butchered the reviews so I'd like to hear about it from a more down to earth perspective.
ReplyDeleteIn 25 words or less ... major awards were too predictable, James Franco was too high and Christian Bale forgetting his wife's name was too funny (at least for the viewers). For a full review, check back late tonight or tomorrow morning, as Saucy (our resident film guy) will be blogging his review tonight.
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