Dogsitting

This week, my mother is out of town for some important media trip, and has asked me to dogsit for her.

Which is a task I dread every time I have to do it. And I want to be a good daughter, because she raised me and still supports me and has been there for me when I’ve needed her and blah blah blah. But every time she asks, I cross my fingers for an excuse not to do it because frankly, dogsitting for her is a fate I wouldn’t bestow upon anyone.

 

  • First of all, the best part about housesitting or dogsitting for anyone is raiding their snacks. But everything she has is so gosh darn healthy, I don’t even know what to do with it.

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  • In fact, I can barely find any space to put my REAL food.

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  • Okay, but no big deal. As long as she has coffee, I’ll be fine.

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But…a jigsaw coffeemaker!?!?

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But who invented this
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Maybe if just shut it really hard
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Maybe it just figures it out itself
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Maybe I’m thinking about it too much
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Close…
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…enough.

 

  • Oh and another thing. My mom has one of those iSmartAlarm alarm systems, so she’s alerted whenever a door or window has been opened. Therefore she knows whenever I get home at night, whenever I get up in the morning, and if I’ve stayed out all night partying without coming back to feed the dogs.

 

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It’s like dogsitting for Big Brother.

 

  • And I can’t even try to get anything done with this face looking at me the entire time.
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