I can handle the dry-erase markers on my walls and the new ottoman.
I can handle the stealthy intrusion into my purse for a quick raid of my MAC Viva Glam lipstick. (plus a detour to the bandaid-rich zipper pouch of my purse).
I can even handle the minor infraction of an entire gallon of milk spilled, well, everywhere.
Note how she blithely continues eating her cracked wheat while the milk drips into the entire surface area of my kitchen. Naturally I blame myself for leaving the milk out.
But the urination pitstop on top of the drawers in the closet?
[narrowly avoiding Caroline's Minnie Mouse ears]
This blatant disregard for common decency almost bought Charlotte a one-way Greyhound ticket straight to Lulu Belle's Animal Shelter in beautiful Brawley, CA.
My dad used to threaten to send us there when he was fed up with us, and now my sisters and I throw this empty threat around on especially challenging days.
It was fortuitous for my little Puffy Sue that I had even a shred of perspective this week (thanks, General Conference!), and opted instead for some innocuous and probably meaningless time-outs. She's lucky I grabbed the camera and not the switch.
{Insert exhaustion}.
