Put this on that list of things I will laugh about later in life

"Don't let him sit down!" I heard Dave say as Big jumped up on my body, horizontal on the couch and two seconds away from dreaming. The back door slammed and Dave's footsteps awoke me from my coma.

Dave ran in the room, Big jumped back down on the floor and Dave pointed out Big's major hygiene issue as the dog ran around the coffee table, then the living room like "Weeee! Hi-Jean what? Weeee!" Around and around the kitchen, back in the dining room, back in the living room, all while Dave yelled "Big! No! Stop! Don't sit! NO DON'T SIT!"

"Come on, he needs a bath," Dave said, trying to get my leaden body off the couch to catch a rabid dog.

"What?" I may have been slightly crabby chasing both of them walking upstairs, Dave holding Big out like you would a toddler with a dirty diaper. "Can't you do it?"

"I have to go back to work!"

"What? Can't you just wipe him up?"

Big plopped down in the bathtub as Dave practiced Teaching Personal Hygiene 101 as I got the towels out of the closet.

"There."

"There."

"OK, got to go."

And that's how I ended up with a wet, shaking rat in the tub. God. Gross.