The spray bottle is still working wonders on the maniac dog's behavior. I keep it in reach most of the time. Sometimes my aim is off and both the dog and the husband get spritzed. Whenever that happens, I become a child. I giggle with a half-hearted apology.
Last night, the dog and I went into the garage. The door opened and it was Rambo with the squirt bottle. He opened fire.
I didn't write this title. The husband did. He wrote it in my notebook. (Which he is not allowed to touch!) For someone who feigns ignorance about this blog, he still likes to give me ideas or maybe it's just his obsession with being the boss of me.
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1 comment:
WIth no more fear of falling oldies, you could get a couple of those big power squrit guns the Baby use to have & have quite the fun with a knock down drag out water fight w/ Dan. Gabby would be on your side naturally. That would hilarious & water can't hurt anything.
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