I just found myself yelling: "Butt + dishes = NO! Butt + dishes = NO!" into the phone repeatedly, thanks to you, dear husband. I can always count on you to bring out the best in me.
We got about two hours of sleep last night. Little Miss is teething. You know this, because you WOKE ME UP to tell me you couldn't take it any more and were leaving the bed.
Despite her abbreviated overnight rest period, she was bright eyed and bushy tailed at 8am sharp, and since I had a walking date, I was up as well. Oh boy. Then I got to STARVE TO DEATH while waiting for her to wake from her extended morning nap. Then I got mashed up hamburger thrown on my head. I decided to clean the master suite, since it is currently BEYOND THE EFFIN' PALE in there, so I open the bathroom cupboard to find my scrub brush and what do I find instead, after digging around for a bit? A giant, scary black cricket. Which I have killed, dear husband, I have done battle with the beast and emerged victorious. But no scrub brush. Why? Because you left it in the kitchen cubby, with the sponge we use to do the dishes. After I have been using it on the bathroom floor. But I didn't look there, because who would have left it there? No, instead I called you, to see where you may have spirited my scrub brush to, since you are FAMOUS for relocating things for NO GOSH DARN EFFIN' REASON!
Hence the yelling about why products that clean where our butts do their business and products that clean where our mouths make it possible for our butts to do our business should NOT BE ALL MIXED UP! Nevermind that it will, apparently, kill you to put something back right where you find it.
To recap: Two hours sleep. Giant scary cricket. Must clean bathroom before it explodes. And you added to all that because apparently you want to sleep outside tonight.