So, usually mornings here are pretty mundane. Wake up at 6:30, rouse a sleeping boy to get ready for school, calm a fussy 2yo who just *hates* mornings, tell boy to quit messing around and get dressed about 547 times (conservative estimate), tell 2yo to stop bothering brother so he can get ready for school, make school lunch...yada, yada, yada. Like I said, normal morning.
Except for a morning like today's. Let me just preface this by saying that it is never a good thing if our dog, Argish, is pacing the house...particularly at night. Usually, much like a babies cry, I hear him, bolt out of bed and let him outside. Last night I guess I slept pretty hard b/c I did not hear a thing (ok, admission time: I shut our bedroom door so that I wouldn't hear C coughing all night. I know, bad mommy. I did give him what medicine is acceptable these days and it did nothing...don't judge). So, it's possible that Argish tried to get my attention, but could not open the door (although, come to think of it, if he *could* open the door, it would never be an issue to have to let them out. Question #1096 for God, why did He not create dogs with opposable thumbs?)
I digress.
At 6am this morning the door to our room bangs open and there is E, wanting to come into our bed. This is a pretty normal occurrence and if it affords me another 1/2 hour of sleep, so be it. Just as we get comfortable, I hear Argish pacing. Crap. Me to Tom: "Get up and let YOUR dog out, he's pacing!" Tom: "Oh, is that a bad thing?" (sigh). Tom gets up and walks into the kitchen and exclaims, "oh wow, there is crap everywhere! Come look at this!" Code for: come help me clean it up...which is code for: can YOU come clean this up? Side-note: there's something you need to understand about Tom. He has the worst gag relex of anyone I have ever known. E-ver. Like he looks at a tongue depressor and starts gagging. As a result, he has gotten out of changing quite a few gross diapers and has rarely, if ever, had to clean up after Argish. Keeping in mind that we have a German Shepherd roughly the size of a small horse...who consequently has excrement the size of a small horse, which means this was not a tiny liquid, slimy mess...there was an oil slick all over our kitchen floor (hope you're not eating right now. oh well, time to get that new year's resolution started anyway. you're welcome).
Ok, so where are we at? oh yeah, BIG mess on the floor, husband trying to help but gagging uncontrollably. Time for super-mom to the rescue. It must be that "steel magnolias" thing about moms that we can do this and not throw up. Seriously, the smell! Ugh! and the texture...all slimy and oozy? Yuck! (I hope you haven't pick that fork back up). Thank goodness we have hardwood floors. And thank you whoever made the swiffer wet-jet. I love you. Seriously, I do. So with a roll of paper towel gone, lots of air freshener, and mopping of the floor at 6:15am, we are ready to start our "normal" morning.
And Argish? He's still with us...and he's sorry...
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