So my husband fished in his monthly bass tournament all day Saturday. He left our house at 3 am! WTF?!? The only good things that happen when you're awake at 3 am include sex or Whataburger…and I can guarantee that he wasn't getting at least one of those.
What did I do all day Saturday?? I'm so glad you asked….I was in charge of handling the double-header tee ball game all alone. Lemme be the first to tell you that "dugout duty" with 5 and 6 year olds is like herding cats. I was ready to duct tape them all to the bench…which I'm pretty sure is illegal, but would have made the dugout much less chaotic.
He totally owes me.
Anyway, he fished with his cousins and they had a great time. The cousins invited us over for drinks on Saturday night so they could relive all their fish stories or whatever. As engrossing as fishing stories are for people who weren't actually there, but were in a dugout full of rambunctious 5 and 6 year olds all day long…..I agreed to go. I'm a big fan of drinks.
So we're having drinks and listening to the fish stories and by this point the fish are like 4 feet long. And that's when it happens. The little fuzzy dog jumps on the couch and proceeds to sit in my lap.
Oh, hell no.
"Um, hey, little fuzzy yappy dog…I don't really *do* little dogs, so could you get the fuck off me because you're creepy little pointy nose and beady eyes are giving me the heebie-jeebies."
But no…turns out? She loves me. And I can't get rid of her…she's obviously a glutton for punishment. I mean, it's not like she was getting encouragement to sit in my lap. She just sat there and looked at me and tried to use her Jedi mind powers to convince me that I liked little fuzzy dogs.
And it didn't work.
The cousins also have a huge spaniel looking dog that stays outside. She's gorgeous…chocolate brown and white. But she's very, very old. She doesn't see or hear very well. And she's fat. See? She's much more 'my people' than the little fuzzy dog.
So I tell the cousins "Ohmigod…I can't believe you still have Sadie! She must be getting pretty old by now!" And Ronnie's cousin promptly responds "Yeah, she is…we've had her grave dug out at the ranch for about two years now and every time she gets fatter, we have to make it a little bigger. But she just hasn't died yet."
I think I may have spewed beer on their leather couch.