Got this text from Grant today: "Fridge is clean" It made me very happy, because 1), I hate cleaning out the fridge and 2), it was Grant's turn and 3), he'd never done it at 632 and 4), I'd been asking him to do it for a couple of days. How much are you wishing you lived with me? Sorry, I'm taken.
Anywho, news of anything being cleaned in my house makes me excited and content. These feelings started to fade away over dinner when I heard about the cleaning process.
Me: "Thank you for cleaning the fridge!"
G: "Sure. Henry helped, too. He ate 1/3 of the chocolate cake, a turkey burger, and..."
I love my boyfriend, but this was not a good idea. Henry does not know when to quit eating. He'll eat everything he can. Grant didn't think this through, and just gave him all the leftovers. And then, when he left for work this afternoon, he put him outside in the hot.
Needless to say, when I got home from work a few hours later, Henry wasn't feeling too well. He came inside, drank a lot of water, threw himself down on the cold tile, then joined me in the living room. To throw up on the carpet.
Beware, here's a visual*:
Here's a sick Henry:
I felt sorry for the poor thing (even though they should BOTH know better), so I just loved on him, and then a good idea occurred to me. Rolaids. Henry ate 2 of the chewables (Grant swears by them), and is now wreaking a different kind of havoc on the living room. The fun kind.
*This was taken by my new toy I got today. Look at that detail! Granted, this is not what I thought I would take to feature my new camera, but, hey, it works.