Apparently it snowed here at the Lair yesterday. Inside.
At least that what it looked like when I walked back in the door to be greeted by two cheerful, loving ass-dogs.
A certain gun company had sent me a couple of small repair parts, and as so often happens for some insane reason, the parts--which would have fit in a regular padded envelope, were shipped in a box big enough to hold a basketball. And naturally, all of that excess space in the pox was taken up by that ungodly creation of the Devil--styrofoam chips. (Now with more static, so they stick to every damned thing!)
The box was intact on my couch when I left for work, but apparently the dozen or so dog toys on the floor weren't nearly as interesting as that box was, for upon my return, I found the floor covered with the styrofoam chips. A dog known to have a cardboard box fetish had apparently amused herself by opening this box and ripping up the cardboard, paying no attention at all to the parts therein or doing anything to avoid scattering the styrofoam. Indeed, when I came in the door, both dogs were frolicking and running through the mess, spreading it even farther over the living room.
Just freaking Aargh.
Nothing like walking in the door, anticipating relaxing, only to have to spend the next ten minutes picking up static-clingy styrofoam and shreds of cardboard as two dogs with no sense of shame or remorse get in the way because they want more attention.