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Destinations, Dreams and Dogs - International adventure with a fast-track family (& dogs) of Old World values, adopting the Russian-Italian-American good life on the go…!

Someone’s Been Eating My Porridge

On our family’s schedule, there are days when we have to divide and conquer.  Usually not, but upon certain occasions, some of us are in one city, and others in another.  Or vice-versa.  Or this and that, and that and this.  You get the picture.

Every time I return to the other house, things are messed-up.  “My” TV is on another channel, and since I only tend to watch one channel if at all, it’s fairly easy to spot when it’s been changed.  “My” pillow has additional pillows on top.  “My” place at the table has a spot and drip or two left behind.

While many things can be chalked up to my kids or children, this, I suspect is the work of Benedetto.  Yet now, it has escalated.

My very own Brownilocks has been virtually eating my porridge, sitting in and breaking my chair, and sleeping in my bed.  Only this time I was in for a rude awakening.  Namely, when I sat on… my very own toilet!

“What happened?!” I exclaimed to myself, since I have somewhat trained everyone above dog height to stay out of my bathroom when I actually need to use it.  Otherwise, it’s a community gathering place of sorts.

My toilet seat was broken-!

I placed a call to Benedetto which he evidently avoided, the machine picking up.

“Strange occurrences are happening at home.  Please call,” I said ominously.

A few minutes later he called back.

“Always nice to hear from you,” he started, suspicious as to what I might be complaining about this time.

He had planned it, so that he was walking in the house at the same time.  We looked at each other on the phone, deciding that we might as well hang up if we’re going to talk face to face.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Follow me,” I led him into my boudoir bathroom, pointing to the broken seat.

“Oh, that.”

“Um-hmm, just as I thought.”  Busted, both him and the seat, and he was not a big guy, just pretty average in size.

“I heard a slight cracking noise, but didn’t see anything….”

“What were you doing in my bathroom?”

“Well, I would think it’s apparent….”

The moral of the story:  Ladies, trust me, you’re safer to stay at home with Papa Bear than to leave him on his own.



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