The Difference Between Women and Men: Dog Poop Edition

I just realized why our new foster dog was acting funny last night.   Nikko is normally like velcro – he follows you everywhere – but last night he refused to come up to bed: he was perched like a cat atop the couch cushions, looking guilty.

Fast forward to this morning, where I felt something under my foot as I walked in my socks on my living room rug.  Wait – what’s that?? – is that?? – it can’t be – but it is…  YES – poop.   A firm little nugget was on the bottom of my sock, and two more tiny turds were on the floor.   Amazingly, the poop didn’t get smushed into the rug or my sock.  I cleaned it up, scrubbed the rug with cleaner, and went upstairs to tell Mrs. Dynamite.

Her reply: “PLEASE take off your socks and put them in the laundry.”

Good idea, honey.

And THAT is the difference between women and men.  To me, my socks were still clean – there was no sign of poop on them.   To my wife, I was tracking dog poop essence/remnants all over the house…


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