Now that the bloody dog drama is over, I can concentrate on other things - like mud.
"Mom, can I go outside and play?' my six-year-old son asked.
"Yes, but stay away from the creek," I replied. "It's a muddy mess from all of the rain."
A few minutes later, my daughter asked if she could go out. I gave her the same instructions. I watched my kids for a while to make sure they were listening. They seemed to be doing a good job, so I went about my business cleaning up dog hair.
Thirty minutes later my kids came back in the house. They were filthy! Obviously they had gotten into some mud.
I looked at my son. He was soaked.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
"I fell into the creek."
"I thought I told you to stay away from the creek," I replied completely exasperated.
"Yeah, but we were playing a spy game, and it was muddy, and I slipped."
As my kids went to their rooms, I looked at the floor. I now have muddy kid footprints and doggy prints streaked across my beautiful hardwood floor. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother cleaning.