Nice Guns, Mister Clean!
A post I wrote last Wednesday morning instead of eating toast:
Last night I made a hot, semi-sweet loaf of wheat bread. When done, I carved into it’s crisp, brown crust from which steam offered up a honey smell that makes your eyes roll back. The inside was soft and had a little spring to it – perfect pores for the butter to pool. I shared a piece with Meredith but still planned to have a little strawberry preserves on another slice after the boys went to bed. Seth and Daddy-O had taken Ike to a baseball game, so I would have the night for myself – myself and my bread. That’s a good day.
While I was talking on the phone trying to find a sitter for my “pre-op” appointment, Miles, my schnauzer, snatched the whole loaf of bread. I had just picked up a play fish net, so I chased him around the house trying to kill him with it. He has not yet gone to be with Jesus – not Yet. It’s horrible, I know. The little crumbs I picked up afterward were still hot from the oven and moist from my freaking dog’s greedy slobber jaws.
While I was having Hick Festival, running around my house, waving a fish net, and cursing at my dog, Jude was drawing on his face and the floor with magic markers. I even ran around him at one point and didn’t notice his La-Di-Da attitude, just making a little art on the kitchen tile.
I didn’t have the nerve to clean it. I just sat down to nurse the baby (still saying stuff like “frickin frackin gunky grrr” when I noticed that the house was pretty quiet. I knew Miles was finishing off the heal of my alone-time happiness, but I wasn’t sure about Jude. He had been running in circles from the kitchen to the living room. I had had my eyes right on him.
Jude? Answer mommy. Come. In. Here. Right. NOW!
In walks Jude and straight to a squat while sporting a big fat smile and all his leg fat pudging down around knees, while handling a Large Sharpie marker, he twisted an arm’s diameter of swirly circles, like stick-figure hair onto the tile – but with a permanent marker.
Complete Shock. More silence. Blood boiling.
Nnooooooooo! It was all over the kitchen floor and a door.
I had to invite Mr. Clean over during my alone time, which is good. Maybe in our more frequent alone time together I could encourage him to create a Magic Eraser for everything that is house dog.
I’m starting to think they’re all in cahoots.