Good Times

So there we were, standing in the backyard, sipping coffee and having the morning smoke after mopping (four times) and doing dog poo removal.

Mr Abby looked at Casey, who looked bummed.

"Can't be mad at a dog for that," he said. "Poor girl."

"True," I said. "She didn't even try to wake us up. That was as bad as the great Grape Poo of '01."

He agreed, and we dubbed this the Great Pork Juice and Cheddar Cheese Poo of ought-six.

Are our lives exciting or WHAT???