So. Um, yeah. Spending one night alone with the three dogs and angst-ridden cat went pretty much exactly how you'd expect it. All you really need to know about the experience is that I spent most of the night googling the phrase "rusty nails and tetanus shots" and the words "emergency care" paired with my zipcode. That. Is. How. Great. It. Went.
I totally brought it on myself, though. I had just let the dogs out to (fingers crossed) take a shit in the yard and not, say, on my bed. What do you know! There they were, pooping outside! Immediately I began planning the parade and ordering a cake for the celebration I was going to throw. Oh, how stupid and cocky, I was! Thinking to myself PFT, THIS IS SO FUCKING EASY! EVERYONE IS BEING SO GOOD. Then I opened the door and called for the dogs to come back in. And was greeted with the sound of god laughing really hard at me. Which sounded exactly like that damn 14-pound Silky terrier gnawing through the fence to attack the neighbor's Pit bull.
Grrreat. So I stepped out on the back stoop and started yelling at the little fucker to STAND DOWN. But because I am irony's bitch and was only wearing my nightgown the cat decided that moment would be a perfect time to make a break for it. Also, I was barefooted. Did I mention that? I never thought to get dressed in my hiking boots and body armor just to let the dogs out. Thought I could do it like my husband does, you know, without incident. My mistake.
So I run out to grab her. Barefooted. In my nightgown. Just as I was about to reach down and scoop the little shit up, I feel something hard and cold slip between toes on my right foot. Assuming that a MOTHERFUCKING SNAKE ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE is attacking me, I jump like six or eight centimeters in the air -- which is sorry hang-time even for a fat white girl -- and squeal like pig. By the time I realize that that it's not a snake but rather just an old board with industrial strength nails left over from Hurricane Ike, the cat has escaped my grips. The Silky, however, is now giving me his full attention. By barking at the board, which he is trying to convince me really is a snake.
Eventually I caught the cat and wrestled Deuce inside. Only to find Ripken puking on the couch. (Escuse me for a moment… ON THE COUCH? REALLY RIPKEN? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ABOUT? WHY IS THE FLOOR NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO YACK ON? WHY MUST IT BE SOMETHING HARD TO CLEAN? LIKE THE COUCH? HMMM? HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE YOU? A COW? HOW MANY STOMACHES TO YOU HAVE? JESUS SHITTING CHRIST!)
And that’s how we rolled with the husband.
I spend the rest of the night cleaning puke off every conceivable surface in the house. Then feeling really guilty for yelling at Ripken for being sick, so I let him sleep in his daddy's side of the bed. Only then we didn't sleep, because that insufferable Silky was barking at every shadow, cricket and creak of a floorboard.
Thankfully, husband came home yesterday bearing gifts! I was so happy to see him that I was prepared to engage in sex on a weeknight. Yeah, buddy! And then he was all LETS GO OUT FOR DINNER. And I was all YES! CAPITAL IDEA! But as soon as we got to the parking lot of any restaurant the Storm of the Century blew through and knocked power out. WHICH NEVER HAPPENS! And so we went home to suffer in the heat and dark with a grouchy pug barking every ten seconds because he didn't know if we knew it or not but THERE IS NO AIR CONDITIONING PEOPLE. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! And so now we are totally boycotting the power company.
The moral of the story? Sonny the Pug and me would have made lousy pioneers
I totally brought it on myself, though. I had just let the dogs out to (fingers crossed) take a shit in the yard and not, say, on my bed. What do you know! There they were, pooping outside! Immediately I began planning the parade and ordering a cake for the celebration I was going to throw. Oh, how stupid and cocky, I was! Thinking to myself PFT, THIS IS SO FUCKING EASY! EVERYONE IS BEING SO GOOD. Then I opened the door and called for the dogs to come back in. And was greeted with the sound of god laughing really hard at me. Which sounded exactly like that damn 14-pound Silky terrier gnawing through the fence to attack the neighbor's Pit bull.
Grrreat. So I stepped out on the back stoop and started yelling at the little fucker to STAND DOWN. But because I am irony's bitch and was only wearing my nightgown the cat decided that moment would be a perfect time to make a break for it. Also, I was barefooted. Did I mention that? I never thought to get dressed in my hiking boots and body armor just to let the dogs out. Thought I could do it like my husband does, you know, without incident. My mistake.
So I run out to grab her. Barefooted. In my nightgown. Just as I was about to reach down and scoop the little shit up, I feel something hard and cold slip between toes on my right foot. Assuming that a MOTHERFUCKING SNAKE ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE is attacking me, I jump like six or eight centimeters in the air -- which is sorry hang-time even for a fat white girl -- and squeal like pig. By the time I realize that that it's not a snake but rather just an old board with industrial strength nails left over from Hurricane Ike, the cat has escaped my grips. The Silky, however, is now giving me his full attention. By barking at the board, which he is trying to convince me really is a snake.
Eventually I caught the cat and wrestled Deuce inside. Only to find Ripken puking on the couch. (Escuse me for a moment… ON THE COUCH? REALLY RIPKEN? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ABOUT? WHY IS THE FLOOR NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO YACK ON? WHY MUST IT BE SOMETHING HARD TO CLEAN? LIKE THE COUCH? HMMM? HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE YOU? A COW? HOW MANY STOMACHES TO YOU HAVE? JESUS SHITTING CHRIST!)
And that’s how we rolled with the husband.
I spend the rest of the night cleaning puke off every conceivable surface in the house. Then feeling really guilty for yelling at Ripken for being sick, so I let him sleep in his daddy's side of the bed. Only then we didn't sleep, because that insufferable Silky was barking at every shadow, cricket and creak of a floorboard.
Thankfully, husband came home yesterday bearing gifts! I was so happy to see him that I was prepared to engage in sex on a weeknight. Yeah, buddy! And then he was all LETS GO OUT FOR DINNER. And I was all YES! CAPITAL IDEA! But as soon as we got to the parking lot of any restaurant the Storm of the Century blew through and knocked power out. WHICH NEVER HAPPENS! And so we went home to suffer in the heat and dark with a grouchy pug barking every ten seconds because he didn't know if we knew it or not but THERE IS NO AIR CONDITIONING PEOPLE. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! And so now we are totally boycotting the power company.
The moral of the story? Sonny the Pug and me would have made lousy pioneers
1 comments:
You know, I have decided that you should not be left unattended. For obvious reason...Ha! H.
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