You should totally give him that chicken. They can live in his trailer in Longmont together.
Most parents (or child-care involved people) will know about the potty talk phase. It’s when kids are obsessed with bodily functions. It usually subsides after about a year of telling them to knock it off but it has only gotten worse. Not my kids. Me. For a while I appeared to be obsessed with writing […]
The great irony is that of all the people to send that gaff, no one is more likely to write something like that on purpose.
I like the names Oliver and Chief but I had cats with those names so that’s not cool. I love Smooch but I dated a guy who had a dog named Smoot, is that okay? It might have to be. I like Beasley but the short version is Bee and my neighbor has a dog named Bee. Rhubarb is cute but Barbie is a girl’s name. WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!
Do I miss my kids?
I have some misgivings about sharing this next part because it might just cross a line but that just means I absolutely must share it. Come what may.
Day three of being home and I’m still passing out at 7:00 and wide awake by 3:30am. I guess watching chicken documentaries in my living room isn’t the best way to stay awake.
I told the boys to prepare themselves for luxury. There will be blankets, pillows, free drinks, movies, and lots of food that doesn’t come from my backpack.
I mean, OF COURSE I have a half naked dog with a mysterious skin condition. It seems like being high maintenance and weird is a requiremnt of being close to me.
I’m ready to let go of the sadness and embrace the beauty that was Blue’s life.