I thought I would take a minute to explain why I named my blog Don’t Lick the Deck. I thought you might be wondering. And I need to calm the heck down after using my new steam mop that my mother-in-law gave me for my birthday. Do you get this excited about new cleaning supplies? I’m pretty sure you don’t. I am fully aware that I am not normal. It’s not so much that cleaning excites me…it’s more the eternal hope that cleaning will somehow become magical if I just have that one new gadget. The only gadget that is going to make cleaning exciting is Rosie the robot from the Jetson’s. I am hoping she arrives at the door next Tuesday.
Wow…you can see why my blog name seems unrelated to anything….most of my thoughts are like that. I’m pretty sure they make medication for that. But my daughter won’t share. So I will just continue to type random thoughts instead.
Back to the topic. Don’t lick the deck is something that my father-in-law used to say to the band of crazy dogs that they had when I met my husband. It somehow evolved into something that Nerdguy and I would say to each other at random times, that I can’t recall anymore, but I am sure made sense at the time. Ever since we had kids, we say it whenever they have put something gross in their mouths or licked the kitchen table or each other. This happens more than you would think.
I seem to recall saying it a lot during the twins’ “family dog” stage, when they tried to eat everything off of the floor. Another problem that Rosie the Robot could have solved. Stupid Jetsons.
We also have a deck that you not only would never want to lick, but just walking on is asking for trouble. It was starting to fall apart when we moved in here 10 years ago, and every year we plan to rip it out and put in a patio. Every year we fail to pull off a major bank heist or discover we are long lost children of royalty. So there it sits. We didn’t realize how bad it was until Grace fell into through one of the boards. We felt terrible. Until she came inside, grabbed my phone and took a picture of the hole.
She hadn’t figured out how to take pictures in non-Disney mode. She’s not quite ready for crime scene photography yet. See the hole under the chair? I think Minnie isn’t the only mouse who is in love with it. The neighbour’s cat suspects that there are others.
We also serve as a raccoon YMCA. I saw a mother pulling her baby out from the hole last week. This charming family stayed under there for a night last year:
We don’t actually know where the raccoons were going. We just don’t actually get out much, and wouldn’t want to think that raccoons are taking better vacations than we are.
This year we are replacing it for sure. I am helping a Nigerian businessman with his finances, and have been assured of a generous payment. This is our year folks!!
So welcome to my blog. Please visit often. Tell your friends. And whatever you do….don’t lick the deck.