Sometimes, after a full weekend of hanging out at ball fields...translated into three games each day, with hurricane force winds, a guy needs a break. Or in the case of Grandma J's main squeeze, JJ, a bath.
Sunday night, when I took my hot shower, I could actually see all the gritty red dirt from the ball field coming out of my hair and off my skin. the wind had coated me from head to toe with grit. On top of the wind, it was cold, and my bones felt like they were frozen. That hot shower felt soooo good!
When I got to my daughter's, A-Ron was fixing himself a pizza. Evidently he was so sore, and had muscle spasms from pitching and playing so many games in the weekend hurricane, that he got a "rest day".
I had to hunt JJ down to give him his bath. Why is it dogs hate baths so much? How do they know what your intentions are? I haven't given JJ a bath in at least a year. He usually goes to the groomer, or my granddaughter gives him a bath. But he knew, and I had to trick him by laying on the couch and pretend to sleep, just to nab him. Ser.i.ous.ly.
After his bath he ran in to
But A-Ron must have kicked him out, so now JJ was telling me I owed him, big time! just don't let your mommy know you were on her couch all wet....
It was a warm day, so I took him for a ride in the car to help him dry off.
He loved it, and once again, all was well and good in JJ's kingdom.