My Saturday Night: A Pom & A Candy Apple… Pathetic
My two year old is obsessed with our a$$holes. I mean obsessed. But not in a good way. He especially likes to bully our slow on the take Pom, aka Bubbies. Our boy is kind of like the asshole fat kid from your elementary school days who liked to sit on kids during a fight. Notice his signature head move when the action starts.
TINY DINK BOY
That picture made you smile, right? This lil’ guy is one of our a$$holes. His name is Tiny Bubbles. Or “Bubbies” if you are in the know. Bubs and Wiener (our dachshund) use to be the top men in my life before the Savages came along. I use to be that gal who dressed her dogs in tshirts and stuffed them in her purse.
Bubbies is retarded, or addled as my mother in law describes him. It’s not his fault. Shortly after I rescued Bubs, he was almost murdered, I mean trampled by my husband’s 85 pound dog (RIP Big Cosmo).
While Bubbies was on life support, I sang the song “Tiny Bubbles” (from the Lawrence Welk Show) to him. I like to think it saved his life. That smile has saved mine more than once.
The Scene: At the vet, texting with my husband while I wait for our 13 year old wiener dog.
Me: I’m here
Husband: How is he?
Me: Okay, but we just dropped $1200 on the vet bill.
Husband: OMFG
Me: Yep
Husband: Would it have been cheaper to put him down?
The Take Away: Next time, text husband BEFORE paying the bill
Wiener is not an Apple!
- Husband: (yelling in another room) I'm going to kill you Wiener!
- 3YO Son: (concerned) Why does Daddy want to kill Wiener?
- Me: Daddy doesn't want to kill Wiener Dog, he's just mad cause he went pee-pee on the floor.
- Husband: (yelling in another room). Get outside a#$hole! (door slams).
- 3YO Son: (running into the other room) Daddy! Wiener is NOT an apple!
- Me: (mumbling) you're right son, Wiener is not an apple, he's a prick.
Waking up to a chaotic household this morning (ie: the a#*holes left another overnight surprise) it’s always good to take a step back for a second. And when things get rough today (and you know the they will), just keep this lil’ piece of advice in the back of your mind from my father, Merv. Yes, his name is Merv. “Forget the shit, get the piss”. Think about it.
