Friday, January 22, 2010

Should I bottle that?

Last night was a pretty fun night around the house! Scott seems to have caught up after the stressful last couple of weeks and the kids seemed well rested and happy, so we were all in great moods -- all of us -- at the same time! Wa-hoo!!

When we moved out into the country, we gave up our fenced-in yard, and with that, we gave up the ability to open the door and let the dogs out to run. We've been tying them up off the back porch on 50 foot tie-outs. They do just fine, but had gotten the tie outs crazy knotted and bunched up. Since they're made out of steel cable, Scott brought them into the kitchen to thaw out so that he could untangle them because the last three nights Tess, our fat dog, has gotten herself wrapped under the porch with not enough spare tie-out to get back up on the deck, resulting in me (and yes, it was really always just me) going outside in my pajamas to untangle her so she can come back inside.

As he was waiting for the tie-outs to thaw, he decided to trim the dog's nails, starting with Tess because she has anxiety about it and gets nervous hearing the trimmers. I ran upstairs to get a load of laundry to throw in before I made dinner and when I came back downstairs, he had finished with Tess and had moved on to Mocha's paws.

As I walked into the kitchen, I look over and see that poor, nervous Tess is pooping in front of the back door. We always joke that Tess gets so worked up over having her nails trimmed that it scares the poop out of her because, well, it scares the poop out of her.

I yelped, "Tessie! Stop!" She hears me and runs into the dining room mid-poop, leaving a trail, naturally. Please understand that Scott's head is only about six feet from the first pile'o'poop. Ugh... He felt instantly terrible for not noticing it and he was fully intending to put both of them out as soon as he finished clipping both of them.

Gah! The stench... He cleaned up (with bleach), thankfully, and I lit every candle in the house. And then I decided to cook fish and to make some extra garlic-y Alfredo because I just needed to cover up that odor. What did my kitchen smell like? Bleachy-cinnamon apple (the candles)-garlic-fish-poop. Blech... Should I bottle that?

Here's a Milo "Aww". A few nights ago, as I was nursing Violet at bedtime, he sat up and said as he closed his little fist, "Mom, when I do this, it means I love you because all of your love is in my hand." The next night he tells me the same, but adds as he give me a thumbs-up, "And this means that I love, you, too!" The next night, he adds as he opens his hands wide, "And this means that I love you, too!" The next night, as he does all three of these hand gestures, he says, "Whatever I do with my hands, it means I love you."

And last night, he said, "Mom, whatever I do with my whole body, it means I love you all the time." Sigh... Me, too, little buddy...

Not to be outdone, Violet chimed in, too. She pulled off my breast, looked at it, and gently said to it, "I love you." Then she looks up at me, beaming, and turns back to nursing. I really have the feeling that she was telling my breast that she loves it, not necessarily that she loves me. I guess she is like her daddy in some ways ;)

1 comment:

Mama Pipes said...

I loved both of the "I love you" stories. Any stories about dog poop make me really appreciate having two dogs under 20 pounds. They're harder to house train, but much easier to clean up after when an accident occurs.