- Sorry I didn’t write Sunday. Or yesterday. Sunday we were visiting my brother and his family. Yesterday I was busy vomiting and shaking with fever all day.
- Good times.
- So of course I can barely remember what happened last week, except for one thing: The Dog Whisperer visited our house. Okay FINE not THE Dog Whisperer (as in Cesar), but clearly A dog whisperer. In like 4 minutes she had our maniacal puppy lying submissively at her feet, awaiting the next command.
- I’m like “HUH? What the fuck did you just do?” And she’s like “He knows I’m the pack leader.” And I say “Sooooo…how do I become the pack leader?” And she responds “Well, you have to demonstrate that you’re in charge, have things under control. In control, but not in a fear-inducing way. Leaders are always fair, calm, collected. They never yell.”
- And then I looked at her sadly and said “Houston, we have a problem.” Because as you all know, I’m loud and slightly spastic and DEFINITELY a yeller. We all have our faults. Mine has always been a penchant for losing my shit. But I’ve been practicing. The leash is particularly helpful. Particularly on Georgia. JUST KIDDING.
- You know what else I suck at? Returning library books. Does anybody EVER return library books on time? I mean I just NEVER DO IT. I try. I plan. I put it in my calendar. And then I don’t do it. I’ve gotten to the point that I no longer care about the late fees. I’ve convinced myself I’m supporting the library and so it’s money well spent. WHAT THE HELL?
- Here’s another seemingly simple thing I just can’t manage to grasp: bringing shit in from the car. I mean that’s simple, right? Every time I bring something out to the car (or the kids do), when I get home I bring it BACK IN THE HOUSE. Right? No problemo. Except there is a problemo. There’s a huge freaking problemo.
- I can’t seem to make that actually happen. I can’t do it until the crap on the floor is actually LEVEL with the seats and I can’t take it anymore so I lose my shit and yell until the kids help me and the car gets cleaned. You see? Natural born leader.
- I’m serious. The only reason I bring groceries in is because I can’t handle the thought of wasting all that money on food going bad. Plus, we need to eat.
- Also, since it appears to be “confessional Tuesday,” check out this dynamic thought process:
Thought 1, occurs while vomiting: “This sucks.”
Thought 2: “I just vomited all the food and water I ate today and clearly I won’t be consuming anything else for quite a long time.”
Thought 3: “Hmmmm, in the interest of weight loss, I guess this doesn’t suck THAT bad.”
So yeah, when Mac got home I declared “The bad news is I vomited all day. The good news is I totally benefited from temporary bulimia.”
I believe he muttered a statement along the lines of “there’s something wrong with you.” Strangely, I hear that often.
And it may be true, but don’t tell the puppy. He thinks I’m the fucking leader.
No, he doesn’t. He thinks I’m the spaz who can’t clean her car, control her children or stop puking.