I Smell Like a Basset Hound

Alyssa spent the night with a friend on Monday night. She was invited Monday morning, Tom let her go to the friend’s house for the day with instructions to call home at 5:00 to see if I was willing to let her spend the night.

Duh. Unless she doesn’t want to spend the night with someone, I’m usually pretty okay with her staying over at her friends’ houses. I know most of her friends’ parents and we all seem to like each other. At least we like each other’s kids, which is nice.

So when I got home yesterday evening, she met me at the door.

“I haven’t seen in since Sunday night!” she exclaimed, engulfing me in a hug.

I love this girl so much. She’s seriously just so awesome.

I hugged her back and said with a smile, “Well, if you weren’t so popular with your friends you might be home more.”

“You left before we woke up yesterday,” she accused.

“I know,” I replied. “Livie cried buckets of tears over that one. But we made up last night while you were gone.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “I smell like a basset hound.”

I sniffed her, not really noting an hint of dog and told her, “Well, it has been since Thursday since you last showered. Unless you count swimming in the lake on Sunday.”

She groaned. “I’m gross.”

I laughed and hugged her again, ignoring her vague scent of lake and dog.

“I think I slept on do hair last night,” she told me as I started dinner. “S’s dog slept on my feet, so I had dog hair under me and a dog on me.”

“Dogs like you,” I suggested.

“Yeah, but I’m ready to not smell like them,” she declared. “I’m going to take a shower.”

It was really good to have her home.