Sunday, March 7, 2010

Sit. Good Boy.

Go Fetch.  No Really, Go Fetch.
Further confirming my theory that parenting and dog training share more similarities than differences, we have taught our son to fetch.

You heard me.

Just like it's a red-letter day when your pup can finally bring you the newspaper, rubberized faux-quail (with genuine scent), or the missus's unmentionables, it's a proud moment when the sprog can fetch you the book of your choosing and stutterstep back to your squashy armchair.  Majesty asked the Captain for The Lady with the Alligator Purse and here it came.  We then asked for Jamberry, and here it came.  I almost teared up.

It'll be a blink of an eye before his old dad is sending him to the QuickStop for NuGrape and Slim Jims.  I.  Cannot.  Wait.

Andale!  Andale!
This week, Her High and Mighty Worshipfulness has had that dratted ague along with the Skipper.  They had planned to load up HMS Tahoe and shove off towards Port of Mobile on Friday.  Now, everyone knows that day to be the unluckiest of days to begin a voyage, and since Majesty and Jack were feeling downright nasty (in constitution, not demeanor), they gave it over for starting on Saturday instead.

So we got up, got everyone mostly fed, mostly clothed and completely out the door.  And then H.M. calls yours truly as they're stuck in that infernal 610 tráfico.  An hour or so later, another call tells me the whole thing is off.  She's coughing, Jack's coughing, things aren't great.  They'll be back at the house shortly.

Now look, getting 60 or so people (including mariachis) out of the house, a certain (bespeckled) First Mate down from the chandelier, the Slip 'n Slide rolled up, and the living room wet vac'ed is a real chore, anyway.  Try doing it all in 36 minutes flat.

I Say, That's a Capital Idea!
So I'm in SBUX this morning shamefully getting a fix, and Clueless Dad is about 6 up from me getting his 7ish and 5ish year old boys squared away.  Know what they got to share?  A can of DoubleShot.  That's right, friends and neighbors, nothing makes those little bodies grow up quicker (or is it quiver?) than:
Non-fat milk, brewed espresso coffee (water, coffee), cream, sugar, caramel color, ascorbic acid, tripotassium phosphate.
I don't even know what tripotassium phosphate is.  But it's probably tri too many.  I'll give the guy the Bill Cosby line that it does in fact have milk in it.  "Milk!  Breakfast!"

Just want to state for the record that's about 130 mg of caffeine.  To compare, a can of Red Bull has about 80 mg.  (Good thing they were splitting it.)

The only explanation that I permit myself to entertain here is that he was ending his custody weekend and about to deliver them back to the Ex.  The world may never know.


Donna said...

So glad the little one is getting useful. My dad had a little chair by the T.V. when I was growing up (before remote controls) and I turned the channels for him. :) Sorry M's trip got cancelled- tell me if you reschedule. P.S. this blog is hysterical- really...good stuff.

Jennifer Reinsch said...

So sorry the family got sick.