After a week of almost non-existent schooling due to a “dry hurricane” and E’s surgery, I was looking forward to getting the week started off right. I got up, took my shower, ate my breakfast, put on a happy face (or, at least a slightly more spackled and less splotchy-looking one), and–answered the phone.
Never answer the phone if you are trying to get something accomplished.
By the way the phone rang, I knew it was Sean (no, it isn’t more cheerful of a ring when he is calling–just a different melody). I picked it up, wondering what he might already need, having left only half an hour earlier.
“Katie,” he sighed, “she got her revenge on me.”
“Genji finally got revenge on me.”
Now, honestly, this statement wasn’t making a lot of sense to me. What did my little fat dog have to get revenge on him for? If anything, he is the one constantly tormented by her snorting presence. And what could she possibly have done to his car on the way to the groomer’s…ooooooh. Revenge. That makes sense.
You know how they say that people start to resemble their dogs after awhile? Well, the fat dog and I have our similarities–especially in the grooming department. Namely, neither one of us gets it done too often. But, while my semi-annual (ok, maybe three or four a year) haircuts are due to my horrible inability to make time to take care of myself, the fat dog would happily live a life of matted hair in her face. She hates going to the groomer’s. And today was the day.
So, what did she do?
Well, every trip to the groomer’s includes a scene wherein Sean chases two resistant dogs (Skunk Boy goes, too) around the car as they hop from front to back, trying to avoid being taken in. It’s something like trying to catch greased pigs, but with two little mop dogs (shih tzus, in case you are wondering). Apparently, during the chase today, Genji managed to step on the button to lock the car doors without Sean noticing. Once both dogs were caught, he closed the car door and headed in to drop them off.
He closed the car door. With the keys still inside.
So, instead of starting school on time, I got to pack four little boys in the car and go rescue him. Have I ever mentioned that his office (and the nearby dog groomer) are half an hour from home?
Sean killed time while waiting for me by buying
bribes treats for the kids in the dollar store. The big find? Golf clubs. With actual metal shafts.
My comments section is open, should anyone want to start a pool on which kid will end up with a concussion first.
We won’t talk about how my day went from there. Let’s just say that, most likely, my family will someday single-handedly fund the early retirement of some therapist.