Domestic Non-violence, or What Happens When You're VERY Tired
Jack didn't sleep last night. He just didn't. AND, he had gotten up at 5:30 on Monday morning (before I got home from work), so I told a very tired Kev to go down to the guest room for some sleep and brought Jack into bed with me at about 2:30. He promptly turned horizontally in the bed and fell sound asleep with his feet pressed into my neck (leaving me with 3 inches from the edge of the bed. Typical man.) Jack woke up at 6 or 6:30 and started his usual routine of ignoring all of his fantastic toys (with the exception of the stuffed animals that he brings me one by one) and, instead, played with the cordless phone, the television, my hand lotion and the alarm clock. In the process of playing with the cordless phone, he apparently called the police, because Jack and I were watching Clifford the Big Red Dog and playing with our toesies when Sydney started barking and the doorbell rang. It was 7 o'clock. Kev went to the door with just a pair of shorts on (large, disshevelled man) to find two patrol cars out front and an officer saying that there had been a 911 call.
The officers left with Kevin's explanation (shouted down the stairs from me) that it had been our cherubic baby with a sick sense of humor. The thing is, I know that our town has a very, very good domestic violence unit since I was once on the Board of a battered women's shelter here. So, because some men are creeps, poor Kev is probably going to be on some sort of alert list. My sweet, gentle giant husband. It also probably didn't help that our neighbor, Mehdi, who is from Iran and owns a cab company, had one of his taxi cabs parked in front of our house. All we needed was some crushed cans of Budweiser on the lawn and it would have been perfect.
Dog Poop
On yesterday's walk with Syd and Jack, Sydney jumped out of the car and had her poo, as usual, which I picked up with the plastic bag that I bring and then we went on our way. The problem was that Sydney decided that she needed another poo and I didn't have another bag. The place where we walk has some areas that are wooded that border beautiful areas with sloped lawns and really magnificient trees. Had she had her second poop in the wooded, brush-covered area where no one walks, I would have just taken a stick and knocked it out of the way. But no! Sydney waited until she was in the most beautiful spot, had a look around, waited until someone without a dog was walking by and then pooped. So, I found myself digging in the trash can where I found an empty ice cream cup and a plastic spoon and I scooped Syd's poo into that and we were done.
Ick.
11:52:26 AM 
|
|
