Dear Jill,

I wanted to tell you about a funny, albeit disgusting little adventure I had while visiting 
a relative a few months ago. I will call this relative my "Hostess" to protect her identity. 

My Hostess has some doggies that have never been properly trained in the potty department. The doggies preferred spot to pee is in the office. I think it must be the lovely shag carpet in that room that they love so much. Ha Ha  Anyway, as you can imagine, that office stinks to high heaven and it spreads to the rest of the house which just alarms the senses. I tell you, when you first get to her house and you walk in the front door, holy cow. Talk about rank. In order to "spare" her house guests of the putrid smell of dog urine, she shuts the office door. Where, do you ask, do the doggies pee if they can't get to the shag carpeted office? Where ever they want of course!  

Mercy. 

While I was up there I needed a paper cutter and asked my Hostess if she had one.

Why yes, she does, its in the desk in the office.

Did she say office?

O.k., I'm from Idaho, Hibbard even. Dog pee is nothing compared to weevils or lice (the two things that gross me out beyond gross). Bring it on. 

So off I go to brave the dog pee in the office all in the name of a paper cutter. As I get to the office door, I take a deep breath, hold it, open the door and I am halfway across the room before I realized I wasn't wearing shoes.

Why wasn't I wearing shoes?!?! 

So what did I do? I stopped. I was paralyzed in the middle of the room, shoeless and standing on the crunchiest, stiffest, most disgusting urine saturated shag carpet ever. In that brief moment of paralysis, I weighed my options. I could either run out of the room as fast as possible and that meant I would be without the paper cutter and I would have to come back, or I could just suck it up and carry on to the desk and be done with it. I was already halfway there anyway, I might as well just keep going and get the stupid paper cutter. I chose the latter and made a mad dash for the desk. I grabbed that darn paper cutter and was out as fast as I could. After I was out of the room and back to "safety" I had what you would call a mini-seizure right there in the hall. I was so grossed out I could hardly stand it. I promptly washed my feet and and hands several times and then used the paper cutter. I did not, however, put it back in the office, going against what I am always nagging my kids for: To put stuff back where you got it. I left it out for my Hostess to put back. Was getting the paper cutter worth all of that?  I guess you can decide. You got my Christmas card didn't you?

Much Love Always,

Rochelle