Well, it must be 100 hours since Hub left me and Huck alone, cause I just lost it. I'm totally on track.

About 8AM this morning, I figured I'd snap around 8:04, having just discovered that the dogs had been locked in my bathroom all night, and thus had tried to tunnel out under the door. The carpet? Every fiber in a 2x4 area pulled out. The doorframe? Chewed to smithereens. Stressful, yep, but I held it together.

The rest of the day was full of the normal Mommy and Huck dance: I love you, I hate you, here, let me hurt you. But just now, after three days of poop and pee going anywhere but the toilet or diaper, when he walked over to me while I was washing the dishes and peed on my leg, I considered walking out the door and not coming back until Monday.

I did yell. It was a shock to literally get pissed on. The first three words out of my mouth once i realized what was going on were very loud, followed by a directive of "Don't. Move. An. Inch."

Bedtime is coming soooo early tonight. Then Mommy's going to break out the emergency pack of smokes. Hear that, Texas? Foster Mother Will Be Smoking Marlboro Lights In The Garage By 8PM. Suck it.