Because Only People With Driver's Licenses Operate Meth Labs

Todd's picked up a nasty sinus congestion-y kind of a cold. Last night we walked up to the Walgreens with the dogs to pick up some meds for him. I stayed outside the store with the dogs while he went in to get his meds. He picked out the formula of Sudafed that is stored behind the pharmacy counter, then realized that needed his license to get it and didn't have it on him because we'd walked to the store.

He walked out of the store, empty handed, eyes watering, nose stuffed up to the point where he's barely able to annunciate , "I cabn't get the bedicine, I beed my license, and I don't hab it. Will you please bo in and bet it for me?"

Now my drivers license number is stored on some Walgreens computer. Is this really going to stop people from buying Sudafed and using it to make meth? What's to stop the meth lab scientists from going store to store, having friends take turns buying it so they can stay under the radar? I wonder if this is going to end up forcing meth lab scientists to make meth out of something else that might end up poisoning their customers, or that will help them blow themselves up.

:::

This morning Todd and I went out to breakfast with some friends. We were gone for about an hour, and came back to get something before going to the Home Show at the RI Convention Center. Normally when we leave the house we go through an admittedly less elaborate preparation process than we had to in the past. We just make sure that things we don't want eaten--fruit, loaves of bread, anything that once contained food, or anything that I happened to be standing next to while thinking about food is put away. We've been letting them have run of the house while we're out because we removed the handle from the refrigerator so that Griffen can't use it to open the fridge.

We were gone for an hour and I came back into the house to get something we'd forgotten. I opened the door and found Griffen curled into the tightest ball at the bottom of the stairs. This is Griffen-speak for "I did something very bad, and you are going to be very very pissed at me. I admit I had fun, but now I know I was wrong."

I walked up the stairs and saw the fridge door wide open, carrots, salad, herbs and whatever else was in dog range torn up and left all over the house. I walked into the bedroom and found an empty egg carton and egg shells strewn all over the room. One of the dog beds was drenched in egg yolks.

Bad dog!