Life continues to move along here in the frozen tundra. I
have given up hope that words like spring, grass and sunshine actually mean anything
given that all I see is dead, snow, and dirty heaps. For a moment there was a
little bit of hope. In fact, it rained and exposed nearly 2 feet of dead grass
covered in snow mold. But then mother nature wanted to make sure that we all
knew exactly who was boss and it dumped 6 inches in one day shortly thereafter.
This has become the new pattern. Wind and rain to carve out a little meltage
followed promptly by a replacement snow. It is getting really old really fast. Then I
remembered that we are simply in second winter. I keep flapping my gums about
second winter in the off season and everybody looks at me like I am a loon.
Look whose is laughing now! In case you are wondering it is not me. We are in
second winter for Pete’s sake.
Things are getting serious though. The other day
I took the wonder pup on a walk and I couldn’t figure out what was so different
about the road we were on. It is a road in my subdivision and so I travel it
with great regularity. I had to ponder on it for a moment. I thought that a
tree had been ripped out, a house torn down or some other construction project.
Much to my horror I realized that what was missing was the 14-foot snow pile
that had been pushed there all winter long. It had melted or been pushed to some
other location. Before you think that I have taken crazy pills I would like to
inform you that there was a guy one street over in a bobcat pulling the snow berms
from the front of his house out into the road and squishing them so as to expedite
their melting process. This is how desperate we have all become. But perhaps no
one is more desperate than I to see grass.
Simon has taken a great aversion to going outside to relieve
himself. He was born in October and has never actually seen grass. I have been
informed by the interwebs that going on grass in is an innate desire in dogs
but I can’t confirm this due to our lack of said green stuff. All he knows is that when his paws get cold it
must be the spot to go. The boys are insistent that they take him into the
basement which has epoxy that is, you guessed it, cold so if he wanders down to
check out the latest smash bros session he will most likely have himself a
little pit stop. The other day I was sitting in my office when I noticed that
it smelled a little off. Much to my horror I looked over and spied with my
little eyes a giant steaming dog poop. I got up and went upstairs to get the
carpet cleaner and when I rounded the corner spied with my little eyes a second
dog poop. If I was upset about the first one, I was angry about the second. I
reminded myself that he is a puppy and can’t use people words and went about fetching
my chemicals. He had stepped in one of his poops and walked it up the stairs so
I knelt down to scrub it out. In case there was not enough fecal matter I went
ahead and knelt smack dab in the center of a whiz puddle. It was enough to send
me into a tizzy. I cleaned it up, went to the office to clean up the first mess
and that is when I noticed that there were several dried pee stains throughout
the living room floor. OF COURSE THERE WERE BECAUSE I LIVE WITH BOYS! I also
noticed that both the things had cozied up in various parts of the basement and
there were dirty socks, unmade guest beds, and stains on the carpets in the bedrooms.
I stormed through the basement with a soaking went whiz knee picking up what felt
like the aftermath of a drunken squirrel party all the while writing a fiery dissertation
to my human offspring about the ramifications that were soon to follow.
Naturally they were at the temple doing baptisms for the dead, prolly cuz Jesus
knew this was the only thing that would save them so my strongly worded
convictions had no ears to fall upon.
I decided that the root of all of my problems was the stupid
Nintendo switch so with all my hulk smash strength I moved the entertainment
center and removed all of its guts from the T.V. put it in a box and hid it. I
then waited, stroking a hairless cat I borrowed in a chair for the victims to
arrive. (okay that part is a lie but holy crap can you imagine if I had managed
to pull that off?!?) I informed them when they returned that not only was the switch
gone, but they were no longer welcome in my basement. The weeping and wailing that
ensued was pretty intense but only fueled my angry fire. If their father had
taken it away, he would have caved after two days. My uterus gives me the ability to harness my anger
and stay laser focused on doling out punishment so I did not. I have successfully
used this learning moment to have them clean the basement, their bedrooms, and
the playroom. I was still not ready to relinquish the basement back but I got
duped.
Apparently, my son who is in the teacher’s quorum presidency
planned an activity revolving around the stupid gaming system pre-maternal freak-out.
I have had to dig the thing out for a one-day time out on the punishment and
allow 8 stinky teenagers to come into my basement. Well played Karma well played.
So help me Jebus, if I go downstairs and found additional weedle stains no amount
of deity induced grace will save them!
So to sum it up, I need grass for my pupper, a fumigating
machine for my basement after the 8 teenagers evacuate it this evening, and a
rental agency that will loan me a hairless cat for my future endeavors.
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