To my workplace and bosses: consider yourself warned

This past Friday, when most of the free world was starting their long holiday weekend celebrations, making trips to the beach and downing margaritas, I had to go to work.

After going through the 5 stages of accepting I had to work on yet another holiday (disbelief, flabbergastery, anger, indifference, delirium), I made the regrettable decision to bring Vito to work with me. Mr. KK was golfing for the day (at least one of us was enjoying their day off) and only about 10 or so people were going to be there.

At the time, seemed like a fantastic decision.

Sigh.

Aside from barking like a lunatic at everyone who cooed over and tried to pet him, Vito ran around the office like he was part of a holiday marathon. After a few laps he had a wild, crazed look in his eyes and his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth. He looked like a puppy who help a ticket for the short bus.

Once Vito had calmed down a bit, one of the girls came to my office door.

HER: "Um, Vito left a little present in the atrium."

WHAT??? I was mortified! He NEVER does anything in the house, I can't even tell you the last time he had an accident. Plus, I had just taken him outside where he pooped. Apparently, he wasn't done.

Upon telling my mother-in-law what happened, her rationale was simple: "Vito was pooping all over the place that keeps his Mommy away from him for much."

Well played, Vito. Well played.