Don't you hate it when that happens?

Saturday, I went into the back yard for a few mins...and found the one little pile of doggy foo in the whole yard.  I took my boots off at the door, and left them there, intending (sometime over the next year or two) to clean them up.    Ole Boy came in, got a scrub brush and some spray cleaner and went out back and cleaned up my shoes.   Wasn't that sweet?

This morning, after the third or fouth time I got mildly irritated at something Ole Boy said, I finally got mad and started letting it show.  He asked a question, and I bit his head off.   He said, "Wow, someone pee'd in your Wheaties this morning."   I said, "YES! YOU!!!"    As I was getting ready to make a grand exit without saying goodbye, he saw it coming.   He calmly stood by the door and waited for me.   He then opened the door and told me to have a good day...."in your nice clean shoes."