Last week I did something I never, ever thought that I would do … well, not without someone nagging me about it for a few hours first. Last week, I picked up dog poo. And not just one or two, but about 20 (yes, I know it’s absolutely atrocious that there were that many on the lawn to begin with, but it’s been a bit of a stand off between Mr W. and I).
One day last week, I was hanging out the washing and I was overcome by the stench of dog poo. Looking over to our small lawn I noticed that no one (and by no one I mean Mr W.) had picked up after the furry kids for a while. Poor things, they were running out of room and fast.
And so, I decided there was only one thing for it. I was going to have to do it. Mr W. watched me walk into our bedroom and when I came out he nearly wet himself from laughing. I had found a scarf and tied it around my face, covering my nose. I looked like the New Housewife of Abu Dahbi gone wrong lol.
But out to the lawn I went, poopa scoopa in hand (a very thoughtful present from my dear mum). I reckon I got through about half when I came to a particularly fresh one. I normally have a pretty strong stomach, but that really got me, even through my stylish pooper scooping attire. I started to dry reach … and that my friends, is where my poopa scooping adventure ended.
I politely told Mr W. that I just couldn’t do it. It would have to officially be his job from now on. Afterall, I feed and water the dogs, as well as take them for walks (ocassionally) it’s only fitting that he should perform such an important role in their upbringing.
Princess Poopa Scoopa xx