I don’t know about you, but I have a routine at bedtime. I put my glass of water next to my bed. I check to make sure all the doors are locked. I put the dogs out for one last time. I make sure the lights are out and the stove is cold. I make sure the thermostat is turned down to 65… though that’s really unnecessary unless I have company because otherwise it’s always at 65 all winter. Then I climb in bed and read until forced to go to sleep because of the late hour and how unlikely it is that I’ll want to get up on time the next day if I read any longer.
So last night I did all that. When I reached up to turn the light off over my bed and go to sleep, I thought how annoying it was that someone had left their dogs out and they were barking constantly and it was now after midnight. Yep… you guessed it. Even as that thought entered my head I realized I remembered letting the dogs out but couldn’t for the life of me remember letting them in. So I went to the back door and there they sat, their faces pathetically staring into the glass door, fear of the dark and cold writ large on their countenances.
Sigh… guilt, thy name is motherhood.