Embarrassed
I do not embarrass easily, I usually wear my stupid antics with pride. But every once in a while I act out in such a way that even you will experience my shame simply by reading this.
As you may have noticed, I have a little tiny pooch named Gucci Pucci (aka: poo poo), she is my trusty companion and I love her to bits. This love will at times over flow and gag many who witness our mushy conversations, but it will never stop the love Gucci and I share.
When we first moved into our current home there was some construction still in the process of being completed. We had electricians, painters and contractors in and out of the house the first month we lived here. One afternoon I left to run a quick errand. When I returned one of the painters was standing in the kitchen, he told me he was done for the day, and that he would be back in the morning. I thanked him, and then went to use the bathroom next to the kitchen. Soon after I shut the door, I heard little paw-scratches. It was my poochie, “my sweet little pup”. I was gone a whole 10 minutes, but all our reunitings are filled with joy and love. I let Gucci in the bathroom with me and we started our “hooray! I’m home ritual” - “Oh there’s my little POO-POO, oh how’s my little poop?! OH I love my little fuzzy wuzzy brown POOOOO POOOO, Oh yes, oh yes! I love my poop.” I then put her down, finished my business, stood up and flushed the toilet. As I waltzed out of the bathroom, there in my path stood the painter, who I thought already left. He was shocked, we both stood frozen. I knew he heard me, and he knew I knew he heard me. My trusty little companion had run off and left me framed. What do you do in those situations? RUN!
I can only imagine what that painter told the others “crazy woman loves her own poo, and gives it kiss, disgusting lady, no more work for her looney toons.”
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