Another weekend in Iowa.
A seriously true conversation that could only originate there.
The set up: I'm watching my brother's house, pets, and child while he and his wife are in New York City on business, with a little pleasure thrown in.
The scene: Saturday they are at the top of the Empire State Building when his cell phone rings . . .
Me: "Brother? I've got a problem."
Brother: "What's up?"
Me: "Your dog has a very dead and rotting large rodent in his mouth and he won't let go of it. He's muddy and covered in blood. What should I do?"
Brother: "Try to get it away from him, bury it, and put the dog in the laundry room. Child can clean him up later."
Me: "I'll do my best . . . ewww . . . . HE ATE THE HEAD OFF!"