Over the summer I bought my incredibly not spoiled dogs a pool to splash around in. Sometimes when we go walking they’ll take my arm off trying get in dirty water so I thought maybe I could fix that by getting them something clean to roll around in. But apparently a bright pink baby pool with crystal clear water just doesn’t have the allure of dirty, scum covered, swamp stinking, pond water because they wouldn’t touch it. I even tried picking them up and putting them in there with me but they would struggle like the rabbit in Fatal Attraction and jump right out again. As usual I was quite the entertainment for my neighbors when in all my portly glory, I tried to wrestle a 100 lbs Lab into a tiny pink baby pool looking very much like someone having a seizure while trying to tango with a fat dog only to have him whine like I was trying to drown him and jump out again after we were both good and soaked. I finally gave up and being a meticulously conscientious house keeper I tossed it in the corner of the yard and left it there to slowly rot with the rest of my tiny ghetto shanty. Lately it’s filled up with rain and leaves and slime and with the cold weather the filthy little thing froze over. Or started to. There was still a bit of water beneath the ice which my dear sweet Angus unhappily found out. For some reason he jumped up and was prancing around on it in his fabulous Angus fashion, like the star of canine River Dance when it gave way. It was just enough to wet his feet and legs but I think he must have jumped two feet in the air then ran straight to me in the house like ninja hounds of hell on steroids were chasing him, then stood and barked at it like a badass through the screen door and dribbled fear pee on my hardwoods while I dried him off. What a brave little soul he is. Sniffle, I’m so proud.
Learned a valuable lesson night before last about altercations with neighbors over barking dogs at 1130 at night. They were of course right to be upset but addressing the situation with profanity aimed at my dogs only sparks my inner asshole and escalates the problem. After a few exchanges (mine were wittier) she finally saw reason and asked me politely to take my dogs in the house which I did because I’m all magnanimous and shit. Of course about 5 minutes later I could hear my momma’s voice reminding me she did NOT raise a foul-mouthed, ill mannered, white trash, hooligan (she did but not for lack of trying ) so by morning I had worried myself into a tummy ache. I decided after work that a pie was a reasonable apology for late night insult exchanges and ran it by their house.
Bad idea. VERY very no good dirty rotten idea. Once I explained why I was there and handed her my peace offering she puckered up and started to cry, hugged me without permission and 30 minutes later I knew all about her baby being sick, her brothers legal problems, got introduced to said ne’er-do-well brother who impressively tried to pretend he had manners and not a meth problem, was forced into another unsolicited hug, talked about issues with another neighbor and the death of her dog. So the moral of the story boys and girls is if you go stupid in the middle of the night and insult your neighbor’s brother’s penis (he brought it up so it was fair game) among other things and then feel the need to get an apology pie do not take it in person. Either send that shit in the mail with a real pretty note or toss it from the road as you drive by and don’t look back.
Another awesome couple of days of being me. First I was supposed to pick up some gas cards for a coworker whose husband is in the hospital far from where they live. I figured while I was as Casey’s I’d grab a pizza. Got the pizza and forgot the gift cards. You know, the REASON I was there in the first place. Then this morning I needed black dress socks to go with my black skirt. (socks and skirts, yes I really am that classy) I searched in the pile of clothes in the basket, and the pile on the table, and the one on the bench in my bedroom and the pile on the couch and in the load that’s been in the dryer for three days (I rock housekeeping skills). Finally gave up and grabbed a pair of white tube socks thinking I could stop at the Dollar Store on my way in to work and grab some. Got to the store, grabbed some cheap socks and got the bright idea to change socks standing next to car in the parking lot. In the wind. In a skirt. Dropped my shoe on the ground (light weight, sparkly Toms knockoff) and sure enough the $%^&ing wind blew my shoe under the car. There I am circling the car in a crouch trying to get my shoe, wind whipping my skirt up around my hairy man legs (god made long skirts so you wouldn’t have to bother shaving in the winter) and unflattering tube socks. Thankfully it finally blew on out the other side so I could grab it. Went back to changing my socks and in my irritation yanked off the white sock now covered in Dollar Store parking lot filth and threw it the passenger seat, of course if fell straight into the Panera bag with my breakfast in it. Granted everything was wrapped up but it was just the idea that crack whore goo from the parking lot might be sharing space with my precious Panera. Dammit some days it’s hard being me. Most days actually. Ok everyday. sniffle.