My house is now relatively feces-free, thanks to Blondage's return and the subsequent departure of Piper. A few hours before Blondage's plane landed, I let Piper into Blondage's empty condo. (I laid down fresh piddle pads. Piper missed. "Close enough!" a delighted Blondage would say later, thereby explaining my last two weeks in a nutshell.)
And then I short-sheeted Blondage's bed. I took away about four feet of foot room. Her head would finally hit the pillow around 4am her time, and ruining that divine moment seemed the least I could do. The next morning, she said nothing. I finally asked.
She hadn't noticed. How short are you when someone short-sheets your bed by half and your feet don't touch?