Why is it, when you are getting ready to go eat someplace 'nice' (i.e. a better restaurant than Taco Bell) that your dog will leap up and come down exactly at the right angle to rip your brand-new pair of nylons (the ones that have reinforced toes and you have to search for every month so that your non-pedicured ragged toenails won't slash them within the first ten steps)?
When your home teachers (or worse, visiting teachers) are coming over to visit, that is the night the cat decides to barf alllll over the floor in the front room just as they are walking up the front porch steps?
The one time you finally DO actually run into that stunning-handsome guy in aisle 16 at Safeway that it is on a so-far-beyond-bad hair day that you hide by putting your head in between the canned vegetables (and get stuck between sliced mushrooms and asparagus and it takes four grocery employees to get you out and when you are finally freed, that guy is still there, WATCHING the rescue operation)?
But THEN, the one time when you are actually TRYING to recreate mud splatters for a poster (long story - hopefully I'll have photos next week to show you), nothing but NOTHING will turn out look MESSY enough! Splatters are only sorta gentle sloshes - dirty mud resembles chocolate milk - it just isn't YUCKY enough.
Murphy's Law still is alive on my planet. I want mud, chaos and dirt, and for once I can't get it.
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