"Hmm," they whined. "Um... kinda has a dog smell to it, guys."
"Really?" we questioned. We really did question. This was news to us.
Well, Sophie is a dog. Sophie is a dog who sheds. Sophie is a dog who sheds more than all of the dogs on our street put together. Sophie sheds. a lot.
No problem, I think. I'll just vacuum out the back of the Ford and give it a good cleaning.
"Ha!" said the loose dog hairs in the back of the truck. "We cannot be sucked up by a shop vac, you foolish girl." And then it laughed, an evil, sardonic, bone-tingling laugh. "We will never leave... NEVER!!!" And dangit if the dog hairs aren't right. They're very happy where they are, stuck in the fibers of the carpeting in the back of the Expedition.
So I did what any self-respecting, busy mom with 2 kids and a full-time job would do. I made an appointment at Dr. Detail. I gave in. I threw in the towel. "You guys handle this," I said. They assure me that they can handle dog smells and German Shepherd hair.
Now... I told you that story to make this observation.
The husband and I arose earlier than usual this morning, not easy for non-morning folks, to take the truck to Dr. Detail. The plan was for the husband to give me a ride home, and then for me to get the kids to school. Before we left for Dr. Detail, we woke up the urchins and got them going.
"Be ready to go so that, when I get back, we can leave for school right away, k guys?"
Now it becomes a matter of semantics. My definition of ready and the boys' definition of ready:
- breakfast eaten
- teeth brushed
- lunch taken out of refrigerator and placed in backpack
- shoes on
Is that a lot to ask? Does that make sense?
The boys' definition:
- No shoes on- in fact, not even attempt to locate where they might be
- lunch still in the fridge
- teeth not yet brushed
- TV on
Speaking of TV, last night we were exhibiting fabulous parenting skills, sitting in front of the TV with the 13-year-old. I was googling on the laptop while the husband was flipping channels, as men are wont to do. The 13-year-old was trying to follow what was on TV: "Wait, Dad," he asked confusedly, "what happened to that guy?"
"Oh, buddy," I explained, "are you not yet aware of the malehood more that prohibits any man from watching a channel for more than 5 minutes? That guy is still on the other channel, bud."
This man is not my husband, but does provide a fine example...