I'm developing a very deep and thoughtful post about unity in the church...but for now...
I present my morning for your enjoyment.
7:00 Groggy, but awake, naturally. Realize that I only had one nighttime visitor (Joey) last night and that the baby slept through the night. Silent rejoicing! I stay in comfy bed.
7:30 Frank's alarm goes off. Baby starts crying. Get up to feed baby. Need to change baby. Ew. Poo proves baby has just started eating baby food.
7:45 Groan from Frank. "Uh...the dog got into the trash again. I forgot the trash was still here." He had put the trash by the back door because...ironically....neighborhood dogs get into our trash when we put it outside. Fun. Fun. Especially since the trash contained, in Frank's words, "half a crumbled wall" that came from our latest home improvement project. I start to clean.
7:50 Trashed contained more or less. Open door to take trash out since it's trash day anyway. See that one of the bags of trash already outside has been spread across the yard by neighborhood dogs. Let out a strangled scream. Look up. See ugly big white dog who is responsible for my misery. Yell at dog to "GET! GET! GO HOME!" Run inside. Ask Frank where his pellet gun is. (He has used his pellet gun to scare away roaming dogs before. I know. It doesn't hurt them, but I always thought it was silly until today...) Realize I am over reacting. Go get more trash bags to clean up outside mess.
7:55 Open back door again. See big ugly white dog carrying one of my bags of trash down the alley. Scream "GET YOU STUPID DOG!" and wave my arms wildly, looking fantastically crazy in my purple sheep pajama pants and robe. Dog runs away (smiling). Grumble under my breath. Clean up trash OUTside. As I put the shredded trash bag inside a whole one, I realize the yellow liquid on the outside of the bag is probably dog pee. Commence gagging, but finish clean up, including many, many diapers.
8:05 Wash hands in scalding water and declare to Frank, "We are getting dog proof trash cans. I don't care HOW much they cost!" Frank guards the back door to make sure the dog is gone, loaded pellet gun in hand. (My hero!)
After that things went back to our normal crazy again. I'm not the poster child of responsible pet ownership by any means, but really. I shouldn't have to worry about large dogs eating my children in my own yard. Our town doesn't have a shelter for strays and I'm sure the police have much better things to do with their time. One time our neighbor called the police and complained that our dog barked too much and they actually they came to our house...so maybe not...but I refuse to be a waster their time. Anyway, our county is trying to raise money for a humane shelter in a tanked economy right now. I think I might finally contribute even though I normally put people before animals when I give...
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