Am I the Only Person in Texas Who Doesn’t Know How to Plop a Patty?
It all comes from deciding not to go to the Goat Barbecue and Craft Fair.
I don’t know what got into me. I read the blurb for this amazing event in the Sunday newspaper, and thought, “That has got to be the coolest name for anything. Ever.” And I mean, anything. Like the name of the new band I’m going to start with Jon Stewart. Or the bookstore I’m going to open in my garage. If David Sedaris can explore diabetes with owls, I don’t see why I can’t spend an afternoon embroidering a lamp shade with a goat while eating some juicy ribs.
I have to admit, though, that I was a bit confused about the goat’s part in all of this. Is the goat doing the barbecuing and the crafting? Or are the goats being barbecued? If so, is that before or after they make a craft? And, most importantly, how do you train a goat to make the Alamo out of Popsicle sticks without the goat actually consuming it?
I could have discovered the answers to all of these riveting questions if I had chosen to make an actual appearance at the Goat Barbecue and Craft Fair. But, as tempting as it sounded, I couldn’t convince myself that anything was better than hanging around the house morbidly depressed. Even the “cow patty plop” didn’t persuade me. Though it did bring up more questions…
So, instead, I stayed home. My daughter, who was bored, got herself invited to a friend’s neighborhood pool. The friend’s mom decided not to make an appearance at the pool, so I waited for her with our bulldog, Wonderbutt, in tow. Not surprisingly, Wonderbutt fell in the pool and almost drowned because, stupidly, I had not brought his life jacket along on what I assumed to be a Drop-Off-And-Drive-Away situation.
Now, if you would have asked me who would be more resentful about this whole experience, I would have laid odds on the daughter, who got yanked back home when her friend’s mother took too long to return to three unchaperoned girls at an unlifeguarded pool. Instead, it’s Wonderbutt who isn’t speaking to me.
Being spurned by an obese bulldog is even more depressing than the thought of eating barbecued goat.
This was the chain of events I began to relate to my doctor the next day as evidence that he probably needed to change my medication – again.
He stopped me at “cow patty.”
It’s kind of scary how little convincing was needed to persuade him to write out a new prescription.
Posted on May 7, 2013, in Depression, Dogs, Family, Humor, Parenting, Wonderbutt and tagged depression, doctor, humor, life, medication, Mental Health, random, somehow it seems wrong to barbecue goats and then buy a seashell picture frame, wonderbutt. Bookmark the permalink. 36 Comments.
You are so zany!
It keeps me sane 😉
Well this is comical. I had to stop going to events wondeeering if I’m going to support them or do I really want to go.
Wow, it never occurred to me to go to support them! That’s a new idea…
This post wins! Best Laugh of the Day. Thanks.
Woohoo! Seeing as you are in Texas, by the way, have you ever plopped a cow patty?
Not a one. Born and raised here, found our way back to raise our kids here, but someone has to be the Contrarian. That would be me. 😀
I think the doctor was vicariously self-madicating through you.
And remember what it is you did. One day, you may want to provoke WB into not speaking to you again.
Yeah, the doctor does do that. That’s okay; as long as I’m the one who benefits 😉
Leave it to WB to save the day. Well, at least mine. I’m still giggling. Thanks for sharing.
It’s impossible not to smile when WB is involved!
I’d need some kind of medication in order to eat a goat. Plus maybe Tums afterward.
I agree. I can’t imagine goats would be very tasty, either. They seem all bone and fur.
1.”Being spurned by an obese bulldog is even more depressing than the thought of eating barbecued goat.” This line killed me!
2. It took me this long to realize that Wonderbutt actually has his own category, and so seeing “Filed in: Wonderbutt” at the bottom of this post also killed me.
LOL! I never noticed #2 before! Hmm. This makes me think of some more categories I could add…
BTW, what we really need is barbecued goat po-tinis 😉
Too funny!!! That last picture of Wonderbutt is priceless! Glad the rescue was successful. Hugs and nose kisses
He really does do that when he is upset with me. I’ve never seen a dog give someone the cold shoulder before.
Poor Dimples. Who doesn’t show up and disappoint the play date friends in the process? 😦 I hope you feel better soon!!
Obviously not a mom that’s in the same league as us!
Now you know that purchase was justified.
The purchase of Wonderbutt – or the purchase of his lifejacket?
Well, to be perfectly honest, you had me at “cow patty”, too.
I’m sorry you’re so depressed – I wish you could keep some of the joy you give us with your posts.
Cow patty is definitely a conversation stopper – or starter.
Goats eating crafts and soggy bulldog would depress me too! I’m sorry you’re not feeling great. 😦
Just know that you bring a lot of laughter to the rest of us. Always love your perspective and hearing about WB’s latest antics! Hugs!!
The smell of soggy bulldog in your car is even better than the sight of him!
I bet you don’t hold grudges!
BOL moi? of course I don’t! Sulking is completely different to holding a grudge right?!
okay. barbecued goat is DELISH. it’s kinda a Mexican thing…cabrito? the crafting I am not too sure of. I kinda wish I would have seen this in the paper because I might have ventured out. sorry about WB falling in and, of course, you didn’t have the carefully purchased life jacket??? wtf??? I hate it when that happens.
That’s what cabrito means? Once again, my 4 years of French fail me.
I’m wondering if he readily hands out those meds because he’s a reader of yours. Everything he needs to know is here……Doesn’t the irresponsibility of parents tick you off? I had a kid over to play with Jimmy and mom showed up an hour late all insulted that I had her kid call her a few times to find out if she was ever coming back!
Yeesh! That happens to me at school all the time when parents don’t pick their kids up until 40 minutes later from club meetings. We’re supposed to kick the kids out of the club if that happens, but I don’t think it’s fair to punish the kid. I just keep calling the parents until they get their butts up there. Hey, on a totally different note, did you see the Wil Wheaton video on “Why It’s Awesome to Be a Nerd”?
No, I didn’t see that video, but I’m TOTALLY looking it up now!
OMG! I’m sharing that video far and wide! Thanks for telling me about it!