"Let the dog out," The Wife said. Then she went back to sleep.
I ended up the victor in this epic battle of wills. Never did get back to sleep, but I got up at 6 and took him for a walk.
"He just needed to go to the restroom," The Wife said. I pictured the dog in a little tiny bathroom with white tile floors and a little mini dog urinal.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked. Anyway, I told the dog not to make a habit of it.
We had a Big Suburban Domestic Day yesterday, which consisted of going to Bed Bath & Beyond in Colma and buying house stuff like a salad spinner and new bathmats and blah blah blah and we also went to Home Depot and BevMo and bought $108 worth of alcohol because even if you're on a Big Suburban Domestic Day, you can't hide who you really are.
What else? Oh, Saturday night I went to see White Rabbits at the Independent. Good things about this show: (1) The band was great and put on a fantastic show; (2) It didn't appear to have sold out, which means it wasn't as crushingly packed as some shows get; and (3) It was over by around midnight and so Stoney and I had time to cab over to Lucky 13 and meet up with The Wife and The Sister and The Sister's friend and The Sister's friend's boyfriend and have some drinks and then try to tell a French guy who wanted to go to a club how to get to Mighty, which was the first place that came to mind.
Tonight's The Wife's
dog whining only slightly less annoying then Snorning of Cataclysmic Proportions.
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