All Of My Animal Friends Have Voices

December 30, 2011

My inside dogs, my outside dogs have voices of their own.  They talk to me and I talk to them.  I can’t imagine how lonely I would be during the day if my friends didn’t talk to me.

Shall I tell you about them?  Okay, I will.  In order of appearance:

Sugar Plum: She was dropped off here with her brother when they were puppies.  I wasn’t here yet.  She was probably between 9 months and one year old when I moved here.  Her brother had been shot by a neighbor for trying to eat their dog’s food.  Sugar got away.  But she was starving and no one wanted her…..until we came.  We consider her our good luck charm.  When we decided to buy the house, we came one day to just hang out and get used to the place.  Sugar Plum was very friendly and playful.  She was also very hungry, skinny,  and scrawny. ( She was sooo hungry in fact, that she ate my cell phone!  Ever after she would occasionally roll around on the ground and make really strange noises.  We decided that she was answering the phone when she did that. )  But I digress.  When we came to hang out that day, she was under the plum tree eating plums.  Hence the name Sugar Plum.  She speaks in a gentle, witty, sweet, wise, strong, fun loving voice.  Underneath it all is a will of iron.  She can climb a chain link fence.  She teaches all the babies how to survive.  She will defend herself and her friends against anyone and anything. She plays with the babies when they are little.  Her favorite treat is bird seed.  I love her with all my heart.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah (Jerry) came to us because The Buddha made a lil slip up.  The neighbors were going on vacation and he was given the job of feeding their dogs for them.  He was supposed to keep Fat Girl locked on the porch and keep Boy fed and watered too.  What wasn’t explained to him in detail was that Fat Girl was in heat.  And Boy, being a boy, was desperate to get to her on that porch.  Well, the vacation was over and all was well until we were informed that Fat Girl was pregnant!  Questions were asked, answers given and the mystery solved.  Seems that The Buddha felt sorry for Fatty and Boy because they were really lonesome for each other so he let Boy onto the porch to give Fat Girl some company one day!  We felt duty bound to take one of the babies.  As we walked into the yard to pick one out, this tiny fat lil rolly polly fella came running right out to us and checked us out.  On the spot My Dearest Husband chose him.  And that is how we got Jeremiah.  He was tough, sweet, very protective, and he snored.  He also taught my baby Dash how to act like a big dog.  He would find a bone, give it to Dash(who was all of six weeks old), and then come take it from him.  Dash would just sit there.  He would bring it back and give it to him again.  Then take it very slowly, gently growling while he did.  Dash would then growl his tiny baby growl.  Jerry would lick him and give him back the bone, then start all over again until he taught Dash how to defend his food or rag or stick or pebble or whatever Dashie had picked up to play with.  Jerry spoke in a strong, loud, protective, country voice.  He went missing and I miss him still.

TT: TT stands for Tiny Tot, which she most definitely isn’t!  She is Sugar Plum and Jeremiah’s baby girl.  We didn’t intend to keep her.  We went to Wal Mart parking lot to give the babies away and a girl said, “PLEASE PLEASE hold her for me while I go inside and do my shopping. I will pick her up when I come out!”  So we held onto her through three or four people who wanted her.  The girl never came back.  But when we got home, Sugar Plum was beside herself with joy that one of her babies had come home to her so we kept her.  She spent her first year being very quiet, unassuming, and watchful.  Since then she has become friendly, funny, outgoing, and smart.  She plays like she’s making up for lost time. She speaks in an exuberant voice that is strong, quiet, and vigilant. 

DeeDee: DeeDee was the only dog we ever bought.  Right after The Buddha and Princess Bella came to join our family, MDH decided that the kids needed a dog.  We decided on Rat Terriers because they are very tiny and also incredibly smart.  A lady who was selling babies was located and we went to pick one out.  We fell in love with her immediately.  Rat Terriers come in two shapes, with tall legs and with short legs.  DeeDee has tall legs.  We also fell in love with her brother, who had short legs and looked like a miniature tough guy.  He was going to someone else though, so we made our deposit on Dee and left to wait til she was old enough to leave her momma.  When we got there, the lil boy dog was still there too.  The breeder said that his girl never came and we could get him too if we wanted to.  WE DID!  So we bought both dogs and took them home to the kids as a surprise.  They were so tiny that we had both of them in a cat carrier and the kids had to peer all the way to the back to find them.  Theo died in the house fire, but DeeDee survived.  She speaks in a quiet, dominant voice that is occasionally girlish and silly.

Mini: AKA Minimum, Miniature, Mini Mouse.  She is Dee’s baby and she was incredibly tiny right from the start.  She was half the size of her siblings at two weeks.  She stayed the same size for months.  One or more of her siblings bit her head when she was little, and bit her tail and broke it twice.  I had to take her out of the pen and keep her away from the other pups.  I was going to give her away too but I could never get in touch with the guy I was going to give her to.  I would call his shop (at 2:00 AM) and he never answered.  I would drive by there with her in a carrier (at 6:00 pm on Sunday) and he wasn’t there.  Eventually I just had to keep her!  🙂  She is built like her mother, with long legs and slender body.  She is all speed.  She can lap every dog here running around in the field.  She can jump higher, run faster and go longer than every dog we have.  She is also mildly retarded, from the bites to her head when she was little I guess.  She speaks in a squeaky voice at hyper speed, often and long.  However, she speaks a foreign language and most of the time we can’t understand her at all.  But she’s funny and fun and amazing to watch.

They all talk to me all the time.  I wouldn’t change that for the world.

 

 

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Bella, Lassie, and the Chicken Biscuit

July 29, 2008

My Dearest Husband occasionally brings home biscuits for breakfast.  Since he works 3rd shift and he passes every food place in town on the way home he can do this without too much trouble.  He does it just often enough to make it special.  We all love it.

Today he brought us home biscuits for breakfast.  Bella got her usual chicken biscuit.  She, according to her, will only eat fried chicken.  Having said this, I can cut up anything at all and tell her it’s fried chicken and she will then eat it.  Anyway, she loves chicken biscuits, so MDH got her one.

When she woke up to her’s she was ecstatic!  She asked where it came from.  MDH, never one to tell a simple story, told her that Lassie woke up this morning.  Sensing that Bella would be jonesing for a chicken biscuit for breakfast, Lassie ran down the road to the store and whined.  The store keeper listened to Lassie and said, “What, Lassie?  Bella is hungry?  And she needs a biscuit?”  To which Lassie whined some more.  The shopkeeper listened again then said, “What, Lassie?  Not just any old biscuit will do?  Bella has to have a fried chicken biscuit?  Okay then, I’ll make her one right away!” 

Lassie whined to the shopkeeper some more.  To which the shopkeeper replied, “What did you say Lassie?  Toss in four more biscuits?”  Lassie whined a bit more.  The shopkeeper said, “Any old biscuits will do for the rest of the family, eh?  Okay Lassie.  Should I just put this on your bill?” 

Lassie whined one last time and the shopkeeper said, “You’re welcome, Lassie.  You have a great day too!”  Then he handed Lassie the bag of biscuits and Lassie ran out the door just as MDH pulled up.  Lassie jumped in the truck and they pulled out and drove home together.  They got there just in time to surprise Bella with a piping hot fried chicken biscuit just as she woke up for breakfast!

After listening to this whole long story in wide eyed wonder, Bella’s only reply was, “Who is Lassie?”

*sigh*

 

 

For those of you too young to remember, Lassie was the single most intelligent being on a farm in TV land back in the LONG AGO.  The family he lived with THOUGHT  they were smart but Lassie had them all beat in the smarts department by a country mile.  And every human for miles around understood that when Lassie came whining it meant that some dumb ass had gotten themselves into trouble.  The dumb ass was usually Timmy, Lassie’s “owner”.  There is some controversy as to who actually owned whom.  Considering the fact that Lassie took way better care of Timmy than Timmy took of Lassie, I feel that Lassie was the dominant character here.  That’s just my opinion.

Also, Lassie could convey vast amounts of information in that whine.  It was amazing!  All my dogs can do is look at me stupidly then five seconds later pee on my floor.  There is none of that “Lassie” type of information-passing going on here.  I mean, if Bella or The Buddha were to fall into a well, I would find out about it because all of the dogs would be milling about aimlessly near the well.  No one would come to me whining in a meaningful way.  No one would come to me and bark out that I needed to get a rope to pull them out, no not a hemp rope, a nylon rope.  They might come and lift their leg on my foot just for kicks and giggles but that’s about the extent of it.

DeeDee can do some tricks.  If I say we’re going to be rich, she will stick her nose up in the air.  If I tell her that daddy farted, she will cover her face with her paws.  She can sit, stand, lay down, dance and box.  That’s it.  No saving lives, no communicating complex information, no giving directions to out of the way places.  Just your average everyday dogs. 

Lassie was one of a kind.  Google her.  Maybe we can get a Lassie revival going.  Because to be honest, it made me feel old as hell when Bella asked that question.  And I didn’t like it.  Not one little bit!

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Playing Taps For Jackal

January 10, 2008

I’ve been trying not to write this post since 3:oo pm this past Saturday.  That’s when the unthinkable happened. 

It had been an incredibly successful day up until then.  Rocky, The Buddha, Princess Bella and I had finally gone to find a house for Rocky to put on our land.  It was the first time we went to look for one in person.  We had previously looked on Craig’s list, on the internet, ect.  However, Christmas is over, everything has settled down and it was finally time.  We left with only about an hour to spend in the actual process of looking once we got to our destination.  This was to be a half assed attempt at best.

We got to the lot, saw a gorgeous place, went inside, Rocky fell in love, the rest of us fell in love, the kids picked out their sleeping quarters for when they spend the night, and it was on.  Rocky asked the price.  The guy left to find out and we slumped.  We knew it was going to be WAY out of her price range.  We steeled ourselves for the letdown. 

He came back with a lot of explanations about how it had just come onto the lot, they didn’t have it on the website yet, once people found out about it it would go fast, you know, salesman talk.  Rocky and I looked at each other thinking that the price was going to draw blood when he finally spit it out.  Then he asked his final question: are you planning to finance it or will this be cash?

Rocky says cash.  I swear I think the man had an organism right there on the spot.  Then he told us the price.  I think WE had organisms right there on the spot.  He recited exactly the price Rocky was wanting to pay for a place.  My game face went out the window on the spot.  Rocky lit up like a Christmas tree.  Rocky put down a deposit to hold it until we could get it checked out by My Dearest Husband who is versed in all things mechanical.  We left singing and doing the car seat dance all the way home.

And that’s when things got ugly.

As we pulled into the lane, all of the hill dogs came running to escort us up the driveway.  One of them was Jackal.  Jackal loved to ride in the truck.  He would jump in to go with you every time you got in the truck.  It broke his little heart if you left home without him. 

The dogs run circles around you when you’re driving up the driveway.  I was going about negative five miles an hour up the drive when I feel the right front wheel rise and fall.  At that point all hell broke loose.  Jackal started to scream.  All the other dogs broke and ran.  The kids started screaming from the backseat, “You ran over Jack!  You ran over Jack!”

I lost it.  I put the truck in park and jumped out.  I ran over to Jack, who is half sitting/half laying on the ground, squealing.  I started to check him out when I notice that one of his testicles is hanging out.  Nothing is broken, he can walk, all that seems to have happened to him is that his scrotum has split open and his testicle has squeezed out.  I’ll wait for a second while all the guys catch their breath.

I’m crying, I’m apologizing to him over and over for running over him, I’m afraid I’ve killed him, I drive a Suburban for God’s sake!  Jack is screaming, the hill dogs want to smell him and every time I push one away three more take it’s place.  MDH is sleeping, the door is locked, Rocky is trying to keep the dogs away, the kids are hysterical.  It was a mess.

Finally, The Buddha gets the keys out of the truck and goes to get MDH out of bed.  We bundle Jack up to the house in a towel, I give him Benedryl, (yes you can, by weight just like a kid) and aspirin for the pain, (again yes you can, it only kills cats) and start the vigil.  I don’t have the cash for an emergency visit to the vet.  Call me callous if you want I have a house payment and kids to feed, I’m not going into debt for an animal.

Jack spent the weekend watching all the pretty colors that the Benedryl showed him, sleeping when the aspirin kicked in, and crying.  It was horrible.  I spent the weekend laying on the floor of the laundry room with Jack petting him and giving him subliminal suggestions not to die while he was sleeping.  When he wasn’t sleeping, crying, or tripping he was running around outside like nothing ever happened.  I, on the other hand, spent the entire weekend crying. 

On Monday morning first thing Jack went to visit the vet.  The vet tells me, surprise surprise, that his testicle has squished out.  Um, DUH!  He said that he could take them both out if I wanted him to.  Now, I worked at a vet.  I was a surgical assistant for six months.  This ain’t my first rodeo.  But I’m flummoxed.  So, against my better judgement I feel compelled to ask.  “What other possibility is there?”  He informed me that he could remove just the one.  Or…….get this……we could just leave it like it is and he’ll eventually just chew it off.   That’s right!  Another moment for yall to catch your breath.

You okay now?  Alright, so I tell the vet that I would prefer that he simply remove both testicles please.  Cripes almighty!  Like we weren’t all traumatized enough already.  Now I’ll forever have that image floating around in my head! 

Now Jackal, during the weekend, had to go outside to do his business at one point.  His stupendously large cojone was hanging out, but the Benedryl is doing it’s work and he’s moving around at a pretty good clip.  Our other dog, Sugar Plum is in heat.  Thaaat’s right.  Jack discovered his “special purpose in life” just as SugarPlum comes wandering by and, nut hanging, starts trying to hump her!!!!!!!

Jack is a MAN!  The boy had nuts the size of…..of….let’s just say they are HOOOGE!  Or at least they were.  And I didn’t get to bring them home in a jar.  I wish I could of because I’m pretty proud of him.  He hasn’t realized yet that he’s got no bullets in his gun.  He’s still trying to hump SugarPlum.  But we’re not playing Taps for Jackal. 

I sure was afraid we would be.  I keep having these horrible images of that huge suburban running over one foot tall Jack.  It makes me shudder.  I also keep having terrible images of Jack chewing off his nut.  Holy Crap I’m glad I’m not a dog! 

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The First Time Blackie Died…….

December 29, 2007

So My Dearest Husband, my mom Rocky, and me were sitting around the dining room table telling stories, which is what you do in the south in the evenings after dinner.  We had already discussed why MDH and Rocky didn’t ride horses: MDH because every time he had ever gotten on one there ended up being a bad story to tell afterwards, and Rocky because she had one when she was young and it had taken off running into the barn and knocked her off by slamming her head into a rafter.  (yikes!)

This started us talking about pets.  MDH had a peculiar series of pets, so to speak.  They were Blackie.  Blackie were cows.  His stepdad ran a van conversion shop that MDH worked at when he was young.  They kept a black cow in the yard out back.  This was done because they spent long hours at the shop and they could care for Blackie better if he was at the same location they were at.  Every year Blackie was taken to the slaughter house and *gulp* dealt with.  He then resided in the deep freeze until such time as he became dinner.

At this point another black cow was purchased, named Blackie, deposited in the yard at the shop and they started all over again.  Rocky and I were horrified to say the least.  I asked MDH how he felt when they took Blackie off to the slaughter house.  His reply was, “The first time Blackie died I felt pretty bad, the second and third times I felt bad but not so much.  After that I got used to it.”

Holy Crap!  I envision this never ending line of Blackie dying and reappearing again over and over while I’m simultaneously eating him on a sesame seed bun with cheese and a dill pickle!  Talk about things that make you shudder! 

After that we got on the subject of how it’s getting to be hog killing time.  If you know anything about the subject you know that it has to be coldto accomplish this particular task.  MDH was describing his first big boy job in the hog killing field.  He was finally old enough to go outside and help the menfolk kill hogs.  This was a yearly happening because his uncle had a “hog parlor”.  That’s right.  A place where hogs are kept in large barns, that have a huge pond where the hog …..um…..crap is dumped to fester and ferment, a place that stinks enough to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon, is called a “hog parlor”.  Cute ain’t it? 

Anyway, his first big-boy job at the hog parlor was when he was about 12 years old.  The hog is ……I’m trying to find a way to put this delicately………de-lifed, then hefted aloft by a piece of heavy equipment and dumped unceremoniously into a huge vat of boiling water.  This is done in order to scald the hair off of the carcass.  MDH’s job was to use a large paddle that resembles a boat oar, and push and turn the hog carcass under the water in order to make sure all the hair was scalded off of the dead hog.

Yeah.

I just picked fruits and vegetables, sold stuff, you know, things like that.  I was a townie.  None of my first jobs involved carcasses of any kind.  As a matter of fact, only one of my jobs ever involved carcasses, and that was just incidentally.  That was when I worked at the vet.  My first job there was squeezing dog butts.  Yeah, you heard me.  I squeezed doggie and kitty butt-holes for a living.  And you thought Blackie and the hog parlor were bad!

When I first started working at the vet, my job was bathing the animals when they first came in.  One of the most important parts of bathing them was expressing their anal glands.  There is actually a reason for this.  The anal glands contain the pure essence of dog and kitty shit smell in its most concentrated form.  It’s where that ever so distinctive scent comes from.  If it is expressed when the animal comes in, their feces doesn’t smell so bad while they are there.  Considering the number of doggies and kitties at the vet, this is a good thing.  It’s the Martha Stewart kind of good thing in the vet biz.

So, my job was to accomplish this ever so desirable state of affairs with each and every creature that graced our doorstep each and every day!  Yippee!  A little secret you might not know about doggies and kitties.  They take deep exception to having their butt-holes squeezed!  Yep, it’s true.  They really didn’t think much about it when I put them in the bathtub to bathe them and dip them, it was nuttin but a thang to them.  When I lifted their tails they sort of cocked their heads sideways as curious animals are wont to do, but still it was only a little out of the ordinary.  But when I took hold of that butt-hole and started to squeeze that baby like half an orange on a juicer………about seventy different kinds of horrified came over them all at once.

For the most part, the dogs were willing to forget the whole thing as long as I was willing to agree not to tell anyone that they cried when it happened.  The cats on the other hand…….a totally different story.  They gave me the sad, crybaby eyes like Puss N Boots in Shreck.  Then they went for my eyes.  It was like being inside of a blender.  All spinning and blades and blood.(mine) 

Yep, after dinner in the south is story time!  Yall come! 

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New Additions To The Collection

December 11, 2007

We have now added one new human and one new puppy to our collection of beings that we live with.  Our zoo gets bigger.  I’m totally happy about both additions. 

The first one you know about already.  It’s my mommy, Rocky.  <insert huge sappy grin here>  She seems to be settling in well and we’re having a great time burning up the roads and shopping and all that great stuff.  We have trashed a whole giant container of coffee so far this week and we’re making a whopping dent in the mail order coffee I’ve been storing up for months.  Honestly, I’m going to crash like a 747 eventually, but for the moment I’m having the time of my life!

The second addition is a bulldog/hound-dog mix.  It’s a big fat rolly polly little thing that is absolutely darlin to look at and it makes my uterous clench just to hold him.  He is satisfying all my maternal instincts at the moment.  I have to keep a minute by minute check on myself just to keep from going to get his two fat little sisters and bringing them home too.  That’s just what we need, two more dogs.  I’m fast becoming the crazy dog lady of the hill already. 

My Dearest Husband has declared this puppy HIS.  He named him Jeremiah Johnson.  Only MDH is allowed to feed and water him.  This is because the rest of us overwhelm all of the animals with our eternal presence and MDH is left out in the cold because he works at night and sleeps during the day.  This limits his ability to be around during the normal “playing with the animals” hours of the day.  Therefore, we are not allowed to associate with JJ unless it is in MDH’s presence. 

However, as I stated previously, MDH sleeps during the day. <insert evil grin here> That big fat rolly polly little baby needs things during the day sometimes!  I’m sure he does.  (looks all innocent and stuff)  He cries.  He’s a baby and he’s lonely.  If he doesn’t get some company he will fail to thrive.  This is not good.  Hence, for MDH’s sake and for the sake of MDH’s baby puppy, I make the huge sacrifice of spending a lil old bit of time with that fat baby for him.  I only do it because I love him.  I wouldn’t do that for just anyone!

His Highness The Buddha and Princess Bella have both gotten great grades on their report cards.  Or is it progress reports?  They send me too many grades home.  I can’t keep up with what is what.  And they feel compelled to change things too.  Used to be that you got letter grades.  A’s were good.  E’s were very bad.  Now S’s are good.  E’s can be good too.  Maybe E’s are bad, who knows?  All I know is that Princess Bella’s teacher was all smiles and all her grades were either S’s (I assumed from the smiles that these were good) and A’s.  And The Buddha’s name was in the newspaper for honor roll so I also assume that his grades were good, although I have no earthly idea how in hell he does it. 

I feel a party coming on.  Not for any reason really, just because I want one.  I think this one will be a hill party.  We have lots of kids up here now.  And my mommy is here to help me get it all ready.  

And OMG……I found two, count em, two grey hairs in my head!  They were really pretty ones.  Not all dirty grey, but white grey.  I kinda like em.  I liked them so much when I found them that I pulled them out and saved them in an envelope for all time.  I think I will leave the replacements there when they grow back in.  I’m fifty years old now, after all.  I guess it’s time for my hair to start getting a little grey in it. 

Once it goes good and grey, I’ll go ahead and lose some weight because I won’t need the fat to fluff out those pesky wrinkles around my eyes anymore.  And I’ll stop wearing my hair in a pony tail too.  It was time to stop doing that anyway.  I only did it because it pulled the wrinkles out of my face and I had so many of them that I was almost wearing my face in a pony tail with just a little bit of hair hanging of the bottom of it!  THAT was just getting creepy.

However, I have started to think that maybe I need to start wearing my rear end in pigtails. 

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Thoughts – November 19, 2007

November 19, 2007

Kids are so much more fun if the television is off.

Dogs are hilarious.  Probably because they don’t care if you see them licking their booty.  Dee Dee’s new trick is to chase Jackal and try to bite his “boys” while he’s running away.  I try to imagine Princess Bella doing this to His Highness The Buddha.  It cracks me up every time! 

It’s never good when I have too much time on my hands.

Every once in a while, it’s good to have ice cream for breakfast.

The kids and I go out to eat every so often.  It’s not a regular thing because I like to cook at home.  Fast food isn’t usually my thing, and besides, it’s special when we dogo out.  We always make a big deal about who’s turn it is to pick the place where we eat.  They keep track of who gets to pick the joint we’re eating at.  They like Mac’s and that insane Burger king dude.  I like places where they have real food and no slides.  So we usually compromise and go where they have overly colorful cartoon characters and playground equipment.  *sigh*  Well, you guessed it, tonight was my turn to choose.  🙂  And I wanted real food.  So of course we have our usual “Whine and Please” session. 

THEM:Pleeeeeease let’s go to McDonaldddddddds

ME:Nope!  My turn to pick and I pick NOT MacFood.

THEM:Pleeeeeease let’s go to McDonaldddddddds

ME:I Mac Don’t want to Mac go to Macs!  Besides, we can’t go there anyway. 

THEM:(huge surprised faces) why not?

ME:Because, Ronnie Mac got arrested.

THEM: But………Why?

ME: The fashion po po got him for wearing that awful crap he always has on.

THEM: YOU LIE!  You just don’t wanna go to McDonald’s!

ME: I can prove it!

THEM:Can not!

ME: Can too!

THEM: Prove it then!

And so I did.

macbusted.jpg
And so I happily took myself and two very subdued children to a sit down restaurant to have a very nice and civilized dinner tonight.  It didn’t hurt that when we passed McDonald’s they had it shut down for remodeling.  Had the yellow tape around the dining area.  Only the drive-thru was open.  (insert huge smart ass grin here)  Sometimes………it’s MY turn to pick the place!

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Odd Things You Say If You Are Raising Kids, Updated, one mo gin

March 20, 2007

Here are a few odd things you might find yourself saying if you are raising kids:

No, it is NOT ok to paint the dog blue!

Who, exactly, decided to use MY razor to shave the cat???

Why is the cheese in the silverware drawer?  (This one was actually my doing, but I still maintain that the only reason I put it there was because they were driving me crazy)

How long has the dog been on the porch in this dress?  (insert sad amount of time here) No, she doesn’t like the dress!  Every time she tries to walk she steps on the dress and it chokes her! 

WHO PUT THE DOG ON TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR????? WELL, YOU TELL “I DON’T KNOW”  TO GET HER DOWN NOW!!!!!! (And people wonder why small dogs shiver!)

Why are your sisters good shoes on the roof?

Where are your eyebrows????? (This one was actually fun, after the initial shock wore off.  The next day was a school day.  So we drew some on with eyebrow pencil. Much fun was had by all in the process.  We also gave him a fu manchu when we practiced the night before.  But, I digress.  He went to sleep on the bus the next morning and one of his eyebrows kinda got stuck to his arm…….DUDE!  DUDE!!! YER EYEBROW FELL OFF!!!  LOLOLOL)  That one never gets old.

Um, honey?  What is that purple circle around your mouth and nose?  (Turns out she was sucking all the air out of a plastic cup to see if it would stick to her face, and she did a really, REALLY good job of it!)

Do I look stupid to you? ( I actually lost my mind and asked my daughter this.  She never said a word.  Just cocked her eyebrow at me as if to say…..”um….YES!”  I was immediately on the floor laughing, no longer angry, and so proud of that little rascal that I almost exploded! )

What were you doing with my toothbrush in the bathtub????  Followed quickly by….WHY did you stick all the toothbrush heads together????????? OH MY GOD!!!!!   *shudder*

Um, if you leave that Ace bandage around your neck for much longer your head will fall off, you know that, right??

Ok, from now on, the dog is no longer allowed to play hide and seek with you!……..Because the oven is NO place for a dog to be left accidentally, that’s why!

Who froze the thermometer in the ice cube tray?????

*Sigh* No, you can’t duct tape your sister to the ceiling fan.

GET THIS FROG OUT OF THE BLENDER RIGHT NOW!

For the last time, the microwave does NOT dry your clothes faster than the clothes dryer.

Honey, help me on this one.  The kids are outside twirling each other in circles like a jumprope in the hammock.  While it seems like a rip roaring good time, it also seems likely to end up with someone’s head busting open like a ripe watermelon.  Should I tell them to stop or just let them take their chances?  ( I get really tired sometimes and need help making what seem like pretty obvious decisions later on.)

Why are there so many blue trees in the woods outside of our house?  And also, while I’m on the subject, why do so many of them seem to be named Becky?

Honey?  Can that puppy walk or is there something wrong with it?  Because it’s feet haven’t touched the ground one time since it got up here on the hill, and I was just wondering.  (the kids carried it around all the time)

Two things: 1. No, you cannot have a pet snake, and B. If you did have a pet snake you most certainly could NOT keep it in the hen house!

Bella!  If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times!  You can’t teach dogs gymnastics!  She will never be able to do a cartwheel!  STOP SPINNING HER LIKE THAT RIGHT NOW!  *sigh* no, they can’t do splits either.

I’m not even going to ask who did it.  All I’m saying is this.  The next time I find a dog asleep in the back seat of my truck WITH a pillow and blanket!, someone is going to be grounded until their kids are 30 years old, got it?????

That was really very nice of you to bring me the very first tiny tomato to show me.  It’s neat, huh?  Here’s the thing:  Now it won’t have a chance to grow into a big shiny red tomato.  Why?  Well, because you killed it by pulling it off the freakin vine, that’s why.  No, no.  I’m not mad.  It’s ok.  We’ll have more.  Will you do me a favor though?  Don’t bring me the whole plant next time, ok?  Just call me and I’ll walk outside and look at it with you OUT THERE.  (insert maniacal, excruciatingly difficult smile here)

Why is all the gravel under the carport raked up in a huge pile?  (Bella wanted to start a rock collection and she really thinks big!)

Please, please, please don’t play hide and seek with the dogs anymore.  They don’t understand the rules, they can’t count to 100 and they don’t know how to get out of the trash can because THEY DON’T HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t make me tell you one more time NOT to lock your sister in the dog pens!

New rule: No scuba diving in the pond.  No teaching your sister to scuba dive in the pond.  And for future reference, dogs do not know how to use a snorkel!

Please take the suitcase full of rocks out of the house.  Thank you.

Betcha won’t do THAT again!  (this was foolishly said by me the FIRST time Buddha got one of those teeny tiny rubber bands they make for braces stuck on his big toe and it turned purple)

Mousetraps are not, I repeat, NOT toys!

Dogs don’t wear rings.  No, not even earrings.  Does she look like she feels pretty?

Bella…BELla…BELLA!!!!!  Do not put that dog on top of the monkey bars!  …….Because, at the risk of repeating myself, dogs do not have opposable thumbs and he can’t hang on!  Um…he doesn’t like the slide either, he told me so!

No, Buddha, I will not send your sister to a group home and leave my husband so that you can go live in an apartment in town!  Yer a country boy now, learn to live with it. Sheesh

No, the dishwasher is NOT good for washing shoes!  Remove them.  NOW!

Your bicycle helmet is NOT for the dog to wear.  No, they don’t make knee pads for them. 

Just out of curiosity, did it occur to you at any time while you were climbing up there that you would eventually have to come down?

No, for the last time, hitting someone because you think they are planning to hit you is NOT called self defense!  And by the way, when I said use your words instead, I didn’t mean THOSE words, and you know it!

I can honestly say that I have no idea if tye dye will come out of the dog.  *sigh*  Poor thing…..but yea, he is really pretty that way.  Yes, I guess dog hair is a natural fabric.  I’ve never looked at it that way.

We won’t go into those things you wonder about but are too terrified to ask, like……wonder why I haven’t seen the hamster in a while, and what is this hairy goop floating around in the big jar???  *gulp*

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