Gary was off today. I received this call at work at 2 pm:
"Good afternoon, this is Ellen."
"ELLEN you have GOT to STOP mopping up the dog pee when he goes on the floor! Really, STOP IT. The mop just pushes the pee around on the floor and it just makes a square of pee instead of a puddle, THAT'S ALL IT DOES. I can see it! And then I WALK in it and I'm walking in PEE."
"I'M TIRED OF TELLING YOU THIS. And another thing!"
"Okay, bye now." (click)
I walked over to Marcia's cube and explained that suddenly, I was in the mood for an impromptu Girl's Night Out. The idea grew on her in about 1.3 seconds, and official high-fives were exchanged to seal the deal.
Hot Mom is having a child-free weekend and had plans with her husband. Hot Husband was invited and the GNO became CO-ED-NO.
My first instinct had been to go straight to Marcia's condo from work and thus avoid any interaction with the husband, you know, since my pee-mopping skills are not up to his standards. However, I realized the Breathalyzer is at home, and I would have to pick it up because people, you think you know how drunk you are? No. You do not.
This would put me in the path of the ranting husband and his pee-fueled frenzy of verbal abuse. I assumed since another tongue-lashing was forthcoming that I'd just call and let him know I'd be out, and that he was invited but I assumed he'd send his regular regrets.
He picked up and started in with, "Honey, I'm sorry I went on and on about the dog pee."
"And I decided it's because you don't have the right tools. I'm going to go out right now to buy you one of those swifter-wet jet things."
"I have a Scooba."
"Yes, but the Scooba's too much of a hassle for just one puddle. This Swifter thing will be perfect. It will be like an extra birthday present, too!"
"Or, you could clean up the dog pee."
"No, this will be great! You'll love it!"
"Yeah. Okay. Now more than ever I'm going to Marcia's tonight. Do you want to come?"
"I figured you'd say that."
"Well, maybe I'll change my mind later."
Well, maybe I'll be so excited about my lovely new cleaning device (just for me!) that I'll beg you to come with me. HAHAhahahHAHAHAha. Or, as I will say at Marcia's later tonight: "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHahhhh." (It seems I wheeze when I've had a few.)
Perhaps a Swifter is like a summons. If you don't actually touch it, it hasn't been given to you.