I’m not good with the phrase: “things happen.” I don’t like variables. I’m a planner and things happening mess up my plans. Let me give you an example: When our new puppy has to go out and do his business he has a designated spot. Everyone in the house abides by this rule. Except of course, the puppy who sometimes decides he’s going and he’s going right now and too bad we’re not near his spot. He’s a dog. Things happen. I need to roll with it. Here’s what I can’t roll with. Cleaning up his mess. Now why do you think I clean up after this puppy? So no one will step in it since they won’t know to look because he went in a place we said wasn’t okay and so my entire yard isn’t a toilet.
Well, guess what happened to me? And at the one time I accidentally wore my best sneakers. It wasn’t until I was already outside with the puppy that I realized in my absent-minded way I’d even put those sneakers on. I must have confused taking the dog out with taking the kids to the bus. I’m always taking someone somewhere, but I digress.
Now I have to throw my sneakers in the garbage because even an OCD cleaner like me has limits. It’s a shame, I like those sneakers, but they are a year and half old. I’ve probably walked enough miles in them they can’t do their job well anymore. This is really an excuse to go out and buy a new pair of sneakers.
The Noodges will tell me the sneakers are a fair trade for the dog. I guess they could be right. And let’s face it. Things happen.