I don't know how it keeps happenin'...maybe I'm being framed. I was also convicted without a jury of my peers or even a chance to explain my side. As part of my community service I have to blog and tell my other dog friends how not to get in trouble like me. Sigh.
The first lesson is not to take THESE :::see photo below::: off of the counter. You're not supposed to do this even if the bag that they were in smelled like something tasty...like a candy bar (or three, but who am I to judge). I guess it also doesn't matter if it was within 2 feet of the counter edge, they're still an OTIS-NO!!! item.
However. If you accidentally DO take them off the counter and the box accidentally DOES fall open, then you're not supposed to EAT them. I don't know why either, but just go with me here. They appear to be cottony-light morsels of goodness, but according to what happened here they are evil cotton monsters. Seriously. I almost had a heart attack when Mom found me, it's a good thing I'm on the leaky-tinkle medicine or it could have been ugly.
She came running out of the bathtub (I won't give you the visual on THAT one), saw the box, saw me, saw the snacks scattered all over the floor and FREAKED. I mean totally freaked, people. She's gotten weirded out when I ate the socks and panties, but boy that was nothing compared to this. All of a sudden she's hysterically screaming about strings wrapping around my insides and cotton explosions in my belly. I admit it, I started to get worried a little bit when I heard the part about the cotton monsters sucking up all my guts.
Next thing I knew she grabbed me in a strangle hold, threw me on the ground all Hulk Hogan like and had stuck this giant funnel down my throat and dumped what had to be two gallons of that nasty foamy peroxide stuff in my tummy. Rulon was standing there laughing and since she couldn't be sure he didn't have a snack with me, she body slammed him on the ground and force fed him that disgusting stuff too. That part was kinda funny, but I started heaving so I couldn't really enjoy the moment.
Next she started crawling all over the floor looking for all the cotton snacks so she could count them but since she was all freaking and stuff forgot to put us out so we started projectile yakking all over the kitchen. She was too busy counting to care though so what did I care if I puked all over the window? She counted seventeen snacks left (what a waste) and I kept spewing until the other three snacks came back up. I'm not good at math, but since she started breathing again I guess that was the rest of the box. Since I swallowed the snacks whole (packaging and all) she's not making me call Dr. Becky to tell her I was bad or go to the ER so they could probably stick something up my butt.
So take my word for it friends, Tampons are not your friends. They're also not snacks...unless you can get away with it.