Me (last night): Gonna get to bed early. Have a race this weekend, so time to start stocking up on sleep. Feeling good. Healthy dinner. Lots of water.
Universe (at all times simultaneously): Ha ha ha ha. Hmmmmm. Ha.
Me (last night): Okay, hitting hay. Settle and calm.
Universe (throughout history): Wait for it.
Me (11:45PM last night): Okay, I woke up, but still have plenty of time for sleep. Except I notice some lights are on downstairs. I’ll just head down and turn those off. I’d do it with Alexa, but it’s offline for some reason. Thanks Amazon. I now blame you too.
Brody the Dog (11:45PM last night): Holy shit? What are we doing? Holy f*cking shit are we doing something? I want to do something. I really want to do something RIGHT NOW.
Me (11:46PM last night): Well, okay. You did wake up and you are still a puppy basically. I’d hate for you to have an accident. You can go outside for a quick pee.
Brody the Dog (11:46PM last night): YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES! This is the best thing ever.
Universe (father, son, holy ghost): Guess what. At this specific and exact time. Tied to exactly when you woke up randomly. Tied to a decision to get out of bed. Tied to waking the dog up. Tied to opening the back door right now at this very instant in all of universal history including all of the events leading to exactly this spot, which nominally include global wars, the pyramids and the faked moon landing…..I decided to put a skunk in your back yard. Suck it.
Brody the Dog (11:47PM last night): OH OH OH OH OH OH. What’s that in the bushes?
Brody the Dog (11:47PM last night): OH GOD IT BURNS. IT BURNS IN MY MOUTH AND EYES. THE ONLY THING I CAN THINK TO DO IS TEAR ASS BACK INTO THE HOUSE AND BEGIN RUBBING MYSELF ON EVERYTHING BECAUSE HOLY GOD WHAT WAS THAT THING IT IS TERRIBLE AND BURNY AND I REALLY WANTED TO BITE IT BUT THEN IT DID SOMETHING HORRIBLE AND I BETTER PUT MY FACE IN YOUR COMFORTER AND WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME AND SCREAMING AND WHY IS THE 9 YEAR OLD CRYING NOW?
Universe (time immortal): Sigh. Never gets old.
Me (11:49PM last night): ERIN! Help! (Begin furious but ultimately pointless and ineffective dog washing).
Brody the Dog (12:15AM last night): Baths aren’t fun while you’re having them. But after they are fun, especially if I tear around more and rub my face – which still burns a bit – on things. Now I guess I’ll go to sleep on your bed.
Wife / Crying Child (12:20AM last night): We are sleeping in the guest room in the basement. You stay here with him. Don’t let him near us.
Universe (past, present, future): I like when the little ones cry.
Me (12:45PM last night, lying awake next to a stinking skunk dog): Please kill me.
Me (1:25AM last night, lying awake next to a stinking skunk dog): Kill me now.
……….. and so on.
And He Says 
Lance fared similarly, but he was low to the ground and of small size, so he was total a reeking wretch. He headed for closet. Morrows were visiting in Cincy. Highlight of the visit.
Lance is lucky a skunk didn’t eat him.