Thursday, May 15, 2008

Dogs are dying every day!

You see, when I was back in high school and finally got to take the bus (I was a deprived walker from K-Jr High) see here:

Anyway, the bus use to drop me off a few blocks away from my house. As I would pass this one house there was a giant German shepherd dog (I nicknamed him "Killer") who would aggressively cross the street, bark, nip at me, and generally scare the crap out of me daily. I begged the bus driver to take pity on me and drop me off a block early BEFORE his house but she never would. My dad decided if the dog knew me he wouldn't try to attack me, so we went over to Killer's house one day when the owner was home. Well Killer turned into a friendly, happy, perfect, smell your crotch and lick your hand dog whilst the owner was there... it was only when he wasn't home and I was walking alone he turned into a raving barking growling terror.
Fast forward to a few months back when my hubby and I were driving near my folks house. We drove by Killer's house and there he was, still sitting in the same place, looking mean. I say to my husband evilly... ha ha!! I have a car now, maybe I'll just run over that scary Killer now that I have the upper hand (I'm an animal lover, mind you, so you PETA people CHILL OUT, I'm being momentarily maniacal here). My hubby pauses for what seems a few minutes when he quietly says... that's not the same dog. I'm like.. YES it is. Sitting in the same place, looking mean, come on!! He says mildly... think about it. WHEN did you go to high school? Then I had to stop and think (while cocking my head to one side and squinting, knowing my math skills are fuzzy at best) Um, 10 years? NO WAIT... it can't be... 18 years??!! He's like Yes. Obviously that is NOT the same Killer seeing that dogs can't live that long. The dog you're about to run over an innocent dog, a replacement dog. If your Killer were still alive today he'd be over 140 years old in dog years, he says (momentarily impressing me with his mad math skills). He'd be toothless, harmless, and probably rolling around in a little doggie wheelchair and at best would gum you to death. I couldn't believe it. Has that much time passed since high school?? Holy smokes. I'm old. Dang it. My birthday is tomorrow too. Come to think of it, I'll be 252 in dog years. Where does the time go?? Well I guess it's gone to the dogs.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

One, OK - Two, Bad - Three, FUNNY

 Hubby and I have this little philosophy about kids. We have three under 3 1/2 and most of the time things are ok. However, if one of them start's crying there is now some kind of Murphy's Law or mathematical equation that spins into effect that there's an equal or even greater chance one or both of the other two will chime in as well. The other thing we've discovered is that math in this instance rarely adds up to the correct sum.

It's like my sister (mother of three) always says, add more kids, and the parenting gets easier. EASIER?? Yes. Ironically if you are overwhelmed with three, adding 2 or three neighbor kids (which sounds insane on a surface level) will actually DECREASE the chaos around you, not multiply it. Wacky but true. The added children, though increasing your numbers two-fold, will infact keep your children busy and out of your hair more often.

So you would think, one kid crying ok, two kids crying, bad, three kids crying, head for the hills! Simple logic decrees that the more crying children the less likely your sanity will remain intact. HOWEVER, hubby and I have found a loop in the system. Yes, one child crying (especially the infant) can cause one to sweat profusely and increase your speed to appease the child and get it what it needs to calm down. Now TWO kids crying at the same time is actually the worse kind of parental stress, even more than three would be. You see, when all THREE kids start crying... well then it actually becomes funny. On more than one occasion if all three are wailing at the top of their lungs, tears streaming, snot flowing, red faces... well just once glance across the room at the other hapless partner and the seemingly endless chaos suddenly becomes humorous. You can't help but laugh. Maybe it's a stress coping mechanism, maybe we're crazy from lack of sleep, but I know hands down I'd prefer all three crying to two any day... but then again I've never really been that good at math anyway...
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