My wife jabbed me in ribs this morning at 3am and asked if I was awake.
Then she asked if I could hear that sound.
It was hard to miss. Our 55lb dog was raucously trudging through our house looking for a suitable place to vomit. Then, he found it.
We laid there for several minutes in silence, hoping the other one would offer to venture barefoot into the darkness to clean it up. Neither of us did. Instead, we decided to settle it with a round of rock-paper-scissors (I won), but by then the dog had already taken care of it himself and was back in bed.
So if you ever stop over to our house to visit, feel free to keep your shoes on.