G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, yeah

I've been crunching the numbers--though I'm no good at math, just ask my husband. He did all of my homework from remedial through pre-calculus. At some point or another he'd just give up trying to teach me, do the problems to get me through the course, and send me to take the test with an encouraging "Try to make a D."

Nevertheless, number crunching is what I have been doing. And roughly one third of my day is dealing with pee.

My 9 year old beagle has taken the geriatric-retiree approach to life these days. And apparently, it's not worth her time to inform me that she has to make a tinkle. So I'm sucking up doggie whiz from various hot-spots on my carpet approximately 3 times a day.

I'm also potty training a 2 1/2 year old boy who thinks that crapping your underwear is always an option. So mopping up puddles, doing loads of laundry, and drawing baths are also a generous portion of my day. Not to mention that now if I don't stop moving immediately before I sneeze, I might have an accident myself.

So yesterday I was dressed for church in a beautiful sundress that I had just finished sewing the night before and trying to get Michael into some pants before we left...and I noticed that his room was smelling a bit yellow. One of the dogs had peed onto his plastic dresser that holds his toys. Like...would have had to hike a leg up and aim it right on that sucker to have the precision that this catastrophe had.

Now I'm dressed in my wedge heels and flowing skirt, scrubbing urine off plastic toys and running the carpet cleaner looking like Donna Reed minus the pearls. All the while praying that I didn't end up smelling like dog pee while I meet all the people at the church I've attended ONCE before. Nothing seals a first impression like spritz of Eau de Pet Bladder.

Today's subject line quote is Fergie, "Glamorous." You can't accuse one of the Peas of not being able to spell...that's for sure.