So, the summer is almost over and I have gotten absolutely nothing accomplished.
Christmas gifts – none made.
Re-aquaintance with friends I haven’t seen during the entire school year – nope.
Closets – still a mess.
Novel – unwritten.
Weight – not lost.
New recipes – unlearned and uncooked.
On the upside, though…
Christmas gifts – none needed if I don’t ever get in touch with any friends again.
Closets – great excuse to continue to un-write my novel.
Weight – none gained while not eating the new recipes that I didn’t cook.
I blame my lack of productivity on Wonderbutt who, frankly, is not a very motivational presence with his habit of following me into every room, collapsing onto the floor, and snoring and farting contentedly while I try to focus and remember why I walked into the room in the first place before I succumb to the fumes that are partly my fault because I didn’t read the text from my husband that he had already fed Wonderbutt this morning – until it was too late.
Plus, he (Wonderbutt, not my husband) completely ruined my plans for today by yanking my blanket off the bed so he could nap on it, resulting in an unscheduled extra load of laundry and a complicated calculation of what time the blanket could go in the washing machine still leaving me time to run the dishwasher (which, of course, cannot be run concurrently), and what time the blanket would be able to go in the dryer so that I would still have it in time for bed. And when, precisely, was I going to take a shower? Because having a clean blanket would be kind of a waste if I just pulled it on top of my unclean, Wonderbutt-licked-with-affection legs and arms when I went to bed.
You can see what I’m up against. Lucky for you, you can’t smell it…
Our bulldog, Wonderbutt, seems a bit put out lately – possibly because we have been restricting his food intake the last couple of weeks. Note that I said, “food intake”. If you know anything about the history of Wonderbutt, you won’t be surprised to learn that his intake of everything but food has not decreased at all. You can see from the widget on the left that he has miraculously made it almost a year without devouring our new living room furniture – but I’m not sure his self-control will last much longer.
It’s hard to explain to a dog why you are feeding him less, and that binging on beds with no nutritional value is not a healthy habit.
We were out of town at a synchronized swimming competition this weekend and I am absolutely exhausted from trying to mark time between my daughter’s performances. So, I gift you with this wonderful motivational poster that I made with a new app I downloaded. Feel free to share and make it the newest internet meme. Just make sure you give Wonderbutt the credit he deserves. He’ll eat your sofa cushions if you don’t.
“Did you call?” my husband asked.
“Yes, but it’s too late now.”
I could hear the alarm in his response, even though it was only one syllable – “Oh?”
“Well, yes. We’re already home. I was calling to see if you thought we should get Wonderbutt a life jacket because we were at Petsmart.”
“Well, how much are they?”
“Oh, you don’t understand. I already bought him the life jacket. You didn’t answer so I just made an executive decision.”
“But it doesn’t fit. It was a medium. So, we’re going back. We’re going to take him with us this time so he can try it on.”
I could tell that my husband was extremely thankful that I was taking care of all of this without his involvement. Because: A) The thought of buying a life jacket for our bulldog seems about as logical as buying a kayak for a T-Rex, and Dos) trying to get Wonderbutt to try on different sized life jackets in the middle of a store registers about a 9.5 on his Ways-That-I-Refuse-To-Humiliate-Myself Scale.
So, well aware that my husband thought that we might as well build our dog a float out of crisp dollar bills for all of the good a life jacket would do, I toted Wonderbutt and my daughter to Petsmart for our bright orange fashion show.
Predictably, we immediately gained an admiring audience of Petsmart customers as I struggled to fit Wonderbutt into the next size up. It had to be explained to everyone that he likes to swim, but tires pretty quickly – usually when he has just made it to the deepest part of the pond.
Wonderbutt is short. But what he lacks in height, he definitely makes up for in rotundity. So, even the Large jacket was no match for his girth. We had to purchase the X-Large for him – the one with a very fit looking labrador on its packaging. I found this slightly embarrassing, but Wonderbutt did not seem disturbed by this in the least. Perhaps this was because he had absolutely no intention of keeping the thing on for more than 5 seconds.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” my daughter asked, as we stood in line to check out, and Wonderbutt managed to wrestle the life jacket off his back and on to the ground.
“Sure it will,” I replied confidently. Okay, maybe not exactly confidently.
Back in the car, I watched as Wonderbutt got in the back and proceeded to attack the life jacket with the zest he usually reserves for eating carpets or sofa cushions.
I looked at my daughter, whose eyebrows were raised.
I closed the door and got in the front seat. Already, the buyer’s remorse was beginning to sink in. I pondered my possibly expensive mistake, then turned around to speak to my daughter.
“Uh, just make sure he doesn’t eat the receipt, okay?” I said.
And so Wonderbutt’s next adventure began…
These Pictures are Copyrighted, So Please Do Not Steal Them to Put on Your Own Holiday Cards. You Know You Want To.
Something tells me that some of you might need a pick-me-up today, so I decided to spare you the riveting post that I originally planned that gave intriguing details about my unfortunate habit of dropping the floss container daily, causing the inner contents to fly across the room, forcing me to comb the territory of our bedroom/bathroom until I find it, and then taxing my already weakened mental capacity as I attempt to force the contents back in while Cap’n Firepants calmly opens his bathroom cabinet and begins to use his own floss that has never been dropped or taken adventurous trips to the land beneath our bed. At least he thinks it hasn’t. It’s quite possible that someone switched the jinxed floss container with the pristine one in his cabinet. But I can’t imagine who would do a passive-aggressive thing like that.
Instead of that electrifying story, I decided to regale you with some pics from my latest photo session of the Butts – formally known as Wonderbutt and Mrs. Pain in the Butt. I had some vague notion that I might be able to use the photos for a family Christmas card. But this is becoming more and more unlikely as other priorities, such as repairing Wonderbutt’s latest damage to my winter coat, keep getting in the way.
I would like to preface this display by stating, although Wonderbutt went to Puppy Kindergarten and learned very well how to “Sit” when so requested, he never learned how to “Stay Sitting Long Enough for Me to Take a Good Picture”, so our photo sessions sound like this, “Sit. Good dog, Wonderbutt. Good dog, Mrs. P.I.B. No, stay sitting, Wonderbutt. Sit. SiT! SIT! No, do not come over here and try to eat the camera! Good dog, Mrs. P.I.B. Come back over here by Mrs. P.I.B., Wonderbutt. Do not eat her collar. Sit. Good. I’m backing up slowly now. Stay sitting. S-T-A-Y sitting. Good. I’m slowly moving the camera. Sit. Good. #@!$%! Wonderbutt. Where the #$!! are you going?…” So on, and so forth. I think you get the idea.
(The first pic below is actually a slide show of pics. Just roll your mouse over it, and you will see several other pics – or you can click on the arrows to advance through.)
I set a box of ants on the dining room table, and I am now sitting in the back of the house wondering if that was a wise decision, considering that our bulldog, Wonderbutt, likes to eat cardboard and doesn’t like it when I leave him alone in the front of the house. But, I am too lazy to go save the ants from Wonderbutt, and besides I am doing very important research. I must find out how long ants can live in a box, because I did not expect them to arrive this quickly. My second graders do not come to class again until Monday, and they will be very disappointed if I release the ants into their new habitat without any witnesses. However, they will probably be even more disappointed if I open the box and a bunch of dead ants fall out.
The last time I ordered ants, I followed the directions carefully for the transfer from box to ant farm. It was highly recommended that the insects be refrigerated for awhile so that they would become sluggish, thus rendering them less hostile as I vigorously shook their package to allow them to fall into their new home. Perhaps not surprisingly, this “sluggish” period was fairly short – about 1/10 of a second, and I immediately had ants that “might bite” racing all over the table while my 3rd graders gleefully tried to catch them. Death reports flooded in. ”I think I stepped on that one.” ”This one just jumped off the side of the table. It’s not moving anymore.” After a 20 minute round-up and thirty minutes of carefully inspecting the classroom, I think we got about 10 ants of the original 40 into the ant farm.
Once they were in between glass, the ants were fascinating to watch. So, remembering the delight and new respect for small creatures that it gave my students, I decided to repeat the disaster this year.
So far, I have had no luck discovering how long ants can live in a box, but my Googling Genius has revealed that ants can wreak havoc if they decide to nest in your Apple iBook. You will be happy to know that there is an entire thread in the Apple Support Community that will give you advice on how to deal with this nasty problem.
I suppose that I have procrastinated long enough – and it is ominously quiet in the Wonderbutt section of the house. It is quite possible that he has swallowed the box whole. Or, even more likely, that he has ripped it to shreds and there are now ants crawling all over the dining room.
Maybe if I had a more appealing ant habitat, the little guys would be less inclined to attempt their Alcatrazian escapes.
What I really need is a new habitat for Wonderbutt…