Mom’s latest story is pretty much of a mess.
It’s shifting focus all over the place, getting longer, but going nowhere, and Martin is stuck in the basement with no suspense, no crisis, no obstacles, no nuthin’. AND some of the secondary characters are trying to take over Martin’s spot as star of the book. Not cool. Mom will move on to a new story on Monday. Bye, Martin. We’ll see you around the neighborhood. Another time. Maybe.
Messes happen. Nobody knows that better than I do. I’ve been a mess-making champion from way back.
In the morning, after my walk, I take a crazy fit and play with toys and run and zoom and slide all over the place.
In the afternoon, I get a special treat, and it’s so delicious that I lick and lick and lick the spot where it was until there’s a wet spot on the floor that’s 92 times bigger than the treat.
After dinner, I make myself comfy on the couch for some TV. Most times, I have to rearrange the cover that Mom has to protect the material from my furs and nails.
When messes happen, there’s only one thing to do. Clean them up!