Yesterday I took Wallace for his daily jaunt around the neighborhood. He lives for this, y’all. Like, as soon as I walk in the door he starts begging for his walk. And, you can’t even say the word “walk” or he’ll start turning circles and barking. In my house, if you want to keep your sanity, you have to spell it out: w-a-l-k. He’s pretty smart, though, so I’m sure before long he’ll figure that out, too.
Anyway, after our w-a-l-k, I had to water the flowers that my mom planted for me. She buys them and puts them in the ground, and I attempt to keep them alive. (So far, so good – but I’m going out of town this weekend, so…I’ll keep you posted.) So, I’m in my backyard, earphones in ears and water hose in hand, watering flowers and dancing around to Material Girl by Madonna when it happens.
My dog, who was crouched down like a tiger next to an azalea, pounces on my leg and plants his teeth into my ankle. I screamed, “OW!!!!!!!!!! WALLACE!!!! WHAT THE F**K?!?!”
Well, I scared him half to death because his little ears went back and he ran for cover. Feeling guilty for scaring him, I snatched my headphones out of my ears to comfort him (He was, after all, just playing – he didn’t mean to bite my flesh, he was going for the shoe…I hope.) and I heard noises. People noises.
Not just any people – my next door neighbors. And their two kids. They were having their family dinner outside last night.
Whoops. I guess when their four-year-old uses the f-word, I’m to blame. Maybe I should train myself to spell out curse words.
thetightropeblog.com 
Laughed & laughed over this one!