I need to preface this post a bit.
For those of you who do not have dogs, will laugh like crazy and say, "that's why I don't have a dog"! For those of you with young children will say, "I understand...geesh, kids"!
Let start with this. Last year, coming off the worst time in my life, I was very lonely and wanted (needed!!!) some company during the day. We found Oliver, read here. Yes, I wanted a little doggie to love and more importantly, a little doggie to love me back. If you have been reading this blog for some time now, you will remember my past blogs about the trials of training my little Oliver. He has been something, but he is older and has turned into a pretty good dog (I thought).
For those of you who may be new to reading this blog, we have a grown man who will, unless God performs a miracle, forever be a little boy. Our Lance is disabled, read here, so it is like having a child in the house (all the time, everyday, morning and night...forever and ever...) he is our joy and full of laughter and kidding and we love him to pieces. That is why I can joke about having him here all the time. Anyway, I digress...
Back to Oliver. What I love about Oliver is that he loves people. The door bell rings and races to the door crying, he wants to greet whoever may be coming through the door. He hates to be by himself. He quite literally, lays on our feet just to be touching us, (which is hard when you are going through menopause and having lots of hot flashes). He never wants to be alone.
Lance is an early riser, but usually I am up before he is and have to wake him for school. He catches the bus at 6:33 a.m. (yes, it really is 6:33, I can't believe a driver can calculate the time to be exactly 6:33 every single morning, but he does. 6:33.)
This week Lance is on Summer break, he has two weeks off before the start of the new school year, so he could have slept in.
Kevin left extra early this morning, so I made his lunch (he packs a lunch everyday to save money) last night. That way I could sleep in a little bit later than normal.
This is what happened:
Oliver crept into my room at 5:30a.m. and began to cry. I got up and put him outside, even though Kevin had already let him out. He just didn't want to be alone. When he came back in, I told him to go lay down, it was still dark in the house and I knew he could go back to sleep. I thought...
At 5:55a.m. Lance walks into my room and tells me he stepped in something. I jumped up and turned on the light and that's when I saw it. There is was, tracked from one end of the hallway (we have a long bridge that connects the back bedrooms, across the open area of the great room, to the master bedroom) all the way into my room. (If you have certain sensibilities, you may want to skip the next word or two, or even the next few lines.)
Dog *&$%, yes, dog crap, okay for propriety's sake, doggie doo. Our little Oliver was mad at me for going back to bed and decided to show me how mad he was. And our Lance, instead of stopping and avoiding the rest of the $@#*, walked all the way to my room just to tell me about it.
So, at 6:00a.m. I am scrubbing 15, the nerd in me counted, 15 spots, regretting getting a doggie to keep me company and silently cursing a kid who can't sleep past 6:00a.m.
Now I have to decide, am I going back to bed to take a nap or do I stay up and feel groggy all day long...do I trust the two of them? Nooooo....so groggy it is.
Kids and dogs, what fodder for blogging.