Yet again I find myself perched on a soapbox. What I'd rather be doing is snuggling with my little boy (who is like a human electric blanket at the moment due to his fever which has kept us both home from school) watching movies. Instead, I stand looking out my front door while a leashless, cageless, unrestrained-in-any-way dog tears through the three bags of trash left at the end of our drive awaiting the city garbage truck. This has become a weekly occurrence and I am about to go all Julia Sugarbaker on someone. I always appreciate the fact that anyone driving along our nice county lane each and every Monday knows if we had Pizza over the weekend, prefer StarKist to Chicken of the Sea, and whether or not someone in the house is menstruating.
P.S. And now allow me to apologize for such a crass post. What can I say? It's Monday. I'm not a Monday kinda girl. My kid is sick. And now there's trash all over my yard.