disclaimer: this is not for anyone who has eaten recently, plans to eat anytime soon or who lacks a certain degree of tolerance for the "ewww factor".
the other night a collision occurred. a really disgusting collision. the worst of parenthood of both baby and dog collided in a horrible fashion. okay, it was trash day on friday meaning the trash can that we as in i usually dispose of all nasty (ie crap filled) diapers in was waiting at the end of the driveway to be picked up by our super reliable trashmen (they have really never missed a friday! amazing, i think) when we had a busy day of nasty diapers (see above definition of "nasty"). there must have been 5 good ones waiting deposit into the trash can. since the trash can was hanging out at the driveway, i continued to pile the "nasty" diapers outside the back door on the deck. not a huge problem, it was a high of 22 degrees with no chance of stench. at some point during the evening, i let abe outside and was busy feeding georgia dinner. abe decided that ringing his doggie doorbell incessantly would certainly give him the right to come back inside. part of me was just tired. part of me was irritated. part of me was on the "you can't make me open the door regardless of how many times you ring that bell" power trip. whatever kept me from opening the door and letting him in will only haunt me for a short period of time, im sure. eventually, georgia finished dinner, i let the firstborn back in the house and went about my evening until my better half got home from work. at some point (the details are fuzzy as i have blocked this traumatic event from my memory) i heard patrick open the back door and say "what the h*&% happened back here?" i thought to myself "hmm, who knows, wonder what it could be" before patrick said "there are a million pieces of diaper all over the back yard". oh my disgusting. how awful. my abraham had entertained himself and carried out his own "ill show you what i can do if you dont let me in the house when i ring my bell" revenge on the "nasty" diapers. i could just throw up thinking of him shredding the remnants of what i know to be filth filled gross things. would you believe that patrick actually went out there and carefully collected every last piece? reference this fact the next time i refer to him as my "better half" and you're wondering why. unbelievable. who knew parenting a great dane and a great baby could be so much fun??
2 comments:
This is about as disgusting as my living room in Hawaii filling up with crap from a neighbors clogged bathroom. At least my neighbor's house (sorry Eastwoods) was worse. df
oh, how i remember those days...absolutely foul. and yes, the eastwoods was worse. the bright side is that these diapers were shred outside the house instead of in our living room. and i dont need to wait on a bunch of locals to come and clean it up. :)
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