I live with my mom

Well, I hope this gets more interesting. It was 30 degrees outside this morning as we got up and out of the house to take the kid to the bus. In my pre-mom life, I was a frequent user of the phrase “my kid would never”. Spoiler alert was I wrong. With my kid, I am getting the total child experience. He is equal parts sweet, funny and salty. As I begged him to put on some sweatpants instead of shorts, he sweetly said “mom, I cannot. I have rizz and I must wear Ronaldo.” So even though “my kid would never” be the kid not dressed for the weather, there we were, standing in the freezing cold, me bundled up and warm and my kid in shorts acting like it doesn’t bother him because he would soon freeze to death than admit that I may be right.

When I got home my mom was giving the dogs their morning ham. Her dog Scout (Golden Retriever) was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, simply on the vets hunch that Scout and I quote “looked tragic”. I mean Scout was chubby, super low energy and balding, but some expensive send out lab work, Synthroid and a 20-pound weight loss turned this three and half-year-old dog who never did anything naughty (probably because she was so tired) into a funny, sweet, energetic and naughty dog. Mom says she’s her “soul dog” and Scout is never more than a few inches from her. She will only take her Synthroid in lunch meat and she’s allergic to chicken. So, ham is the current delivery method. Barky (my Golden Retriever/Bernese Mountain Dog) would never be left out so she gets sympathy ham, Fat Piggy (the pug) has never been full in her life and so she gets emotional support ham and Allie (my dachshund) is almost 18 so she gets ham because she is an old lady.

Allie is our first “baby.” We got her when we were just dating. She has always been the princess. She has to be carried around now, to the backyard, to the water bowl, to the couch, to the bed, a slight breeze will knock her over in the yard. She has to be carried now, but she always loved to be carried around. She hops across the kitchen floor like a bunny if anyone goes into the kitchen between 3:30 and 4:30, though you wouldn’t believe me if you didn’t see it for yourself. Doggie dinner time is promptly at 4:30. If for any reason doggie dinner is late you are made well aware by the bothersome barking of all four ladies. We very much accommodate their comfort at all costs. Barky was because my kid asked for a “sibling” sorry kid. I am too old. Here is a puppy. He says she is his, but it takes a lot of bargaining to get him to fill the dog food bowl, and I don’t have the energy to mop the floor if he attempted to fill the water bowl. The kid with endless energy even couldn’t stir pudding for two minutes because he “was exhausted from working so hard”. I will end today with some pictures of the ladies so you can start to picture my chaos.

(Trajic Scout)

No longer tragic Scout