Don't worry, I mean that literally, not figuratively.
Wait, that might actually sound way worse.
Let me explain.
At 1 A.M. this morning, I was sound asleep. Suddenly, Toby appeared in my dream. And in my dream Toby was pooping. And then I woke up.
And I smelled why my dream had evolved in such a fashion.
Earlier in the day, Toby had gotten into the trash and ate human food. Toby doesn't eat human food because it gives him the big D. We were worried this was coming, but thought we were in the clear when we went to bed that night.
So one hour into our anniversary, I went downstairs, made my big, sad, eye-contact avoiding dog come out of the corner and go outside and cleaned up the mess. Don't be too jealous of my glamorous life. I sure hope when they cast the Real Housewives of West Michigan they find me so I can share my stunningly opulent lifestyle with the world.
When I came back upstairs, Andy looked at me and said, "Happy Anniversary baby! Are you showering before you bike to work?"
"It's not time for work. It's one in the morning."
"Oh, why are you up?" *nose twitches* "OH NO!!!"
Happy Anniversary indeed.