Awkward

A coule weeks ago at work I was rooting around in a filing cabinet for some paperwork from 1998 and there were two guys talking about cars and trucks and gas milage behind me. One drives a big honking pick up and other drives a big honking SUV. They're on and on about this model and that model and I'm thinking about how neither one of them can possilby get more than 5 stinking miles to a stinking gallon of gas.

I pop off with, "Why don't you both go get a Hummer?"

"I'd like to," they respond in unison.

Dear. Lord.

So that's pretty much an indication of how my life has been going lately....

For you:

An honest man
A thinking man
A literature man
A bulldozer man
A sailor man
A train and airplane man
A fiddle and banjo man
A no-nonsense man
A simple man
A fair man
A dedicated man
A working man
A man I use as a measure of a man.

Many happy returns, Pop...
with much love,
#1 Daughter
October 7, 1999

Tubby

Every fall for the last four years, right before he goes back to school, D takes Kitty to the doctor for his shots and whatnot. I have no knowledge of what goes on at the doctors. It's not my business. He's not my cat.

So this year, since Dan was only home for a week here and there, Kitty didn't get escorted to his doctor appointment by D and the G/f, styling in his Kitty-Carryall. It was up to me to take him. Prompted by three separate postcards from the vet's office. First: It's that time again! Second: Your pet's health is important to us! Third: You may not be eligible for the Bad Mother Of The Year Award anymore but Bad Pet Owner Of The Year is still within your reach!

Dang.

So this morning at 9:15 I jammed Jadn into his Kitty-Carryall (surprisingly, he hates his Kitty-Carryall....who knew?) and schlepped him to the vets office. At first it was all, "Hi there!" with smiles and small talk, and, "Bring Jadn into Exam Room #2 and someone will be right with you." I'm all like, "This ain't so tuff."

The nice smiley kitty nurse came and chatted with me for a moment before taking Jadn off to parts unknown, behind the closed door, where they apparently torture the household pets of unsuspecting b@st@rds like myself.

Kitty screeched. And cried. And howled. And then screeched louder and longer then I ever thought possible. It was waaaay beyond horrifying.

When the nice smiley kitty nurse came back with J (in one piece, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, even though by then I was a total emotional wreck,of course) she said he was an angel through exam and the shots, but he fought the good fight over taking the worming medicine. By mouth. I would have guessed "suppository" by the caterwauling.

And if I hadn't been slapped around enough (this is all about me, you know) she tells me that Kitty's weight is becoming "a concern", and proceeds to foist a wad of pamphlets at me about serious conditions that arise from "feline obesity", like diabetes, and how "we" need to look at his food intake and put him on a special diet and I guess I really am a shoe-in for that Bad Pet Owner Of The Year award.

D@mmit.

Before I can get big old fat Tub Of Lard out of there, I have to stop at the front desk and pay for our mutual torture and humuliation. To the tune of $136, thank you very little.

I'm like, "He's really not fat." Trying to rationalize. Trying save face.

The receptionist looks at his chart, "Well he is almost 15 pounds," she apologizes.

"Would you mind not announcing his weight to the waiting room?" I snot. "He's pretty sensitive about it."

Is it any wonder I drink?

ohforgodssake

I watched my niece and nephew yesterday for the hour before my sister got home from work. We hung out on my patio with a few neighbor girls (who obviously had nothing better to do). The conversation eventually came around who was going to be what for Halloween. There was talk of scarecrows and nurses and witches and ghosts.

"I know what would be funny" I told my niece, "How about if you dress up as Santa Clause?" We all laughed and agreed that would be very funny. Frankly, I thought it was pretty much a stroke of genius.

"How about if I dressed up as teeth?" she asked.

"That would be silly," I said. "How about if you dressed up as an eyeball or a big old bumbum?"

Well that was shocking and we all laughed and laughed.

So after sis got home and we were on our nightly walk, I remembered my Santa idea and said, "Hey....tell Mommy that great idea I had for you for Halloween."

And that little snip turns around from her seat in the stroller and looks at me and says, "She wants me to dress up as a bumbum."

I'm so stinkin' misunderstood.