Crafty

Crafty blog?  What crafty blog?  If it doesn't have anything to do with fleas, it's just not on my radar today.

While I'd love to tell y'all about the sweater I just finished, I can't.  I just can't. 

I've spent the last three - or is it five?  I've lost all track of time - days obsessively cleaning my home.  My poor, sweet fur kids got fleas.  They have lumps and bumps all over their big, beautiful bodies. 

Do you want to know the kicker?  It's my fault.  Somehow, I've managed not to give them their flea medicine in...well, I can't rightly tell you how long it's been.  I just haven't thought about it.

I'm a bad mom.

So I've been spreading boric acid around my house and vacuuming it up like it's going out of style.  I've been obsessively picking these crafty little buggers out of my girls' fur and taking great delight in crushing the life out of them one by one.

I've been torturing my beloved doggies by forcing each of them into the bath - AGAIN - to eradicate the crafty bastards. 

After that, I committed the most heinous of all my crimes: I locked them in the kitchen all day while they dried off and the boric acid and I did our work.  I sprinkled the stuff around the living room after The Princess left for school, and I left it to really work its magic throughout my work day.  I then proceeded to vacuum each couch, nook and cranny again and again and again, all while they watched helplessly from the other side of the gate.

All the beefy treats and cheese slices in the world wouldn't make up for what my girls have been through in the last week.

So: crafty?  I'll give you crafty.  Each and every one of those crafty little bloodsuckers is going DOWN.  Mark my words.

'Til next time,
OCB