I received a call on my way home last night from the husband, and he didn't sound particularly happy. "Who left the house last this morning?" "Um, I did, why? What did I do?" "It's not so much what you did, as what you didn't do....you didn't close the dog door."
At that point, oh SH*T was the only thing I had to say. Luckily, there wasn't too much of that!
They had gone through the garbage can in the cabinet under the sink, making sure there was nothing edible being thrown out. They had gone upstairs and gotten MUD all over my bed (someone marked on my pillow too...nice
Sean says coming home to find 11 Siberians greeting him at the front door was a little disconcerting. I'm just happy he got home first and did all the clean up!
This morning? I double checked all the doors! And all day long I've been fighting a compulsion to drive home and check on them.