Was Zum Teufel?!
Tues Mar 04 – While most of the nation was riveted on Texas, Ohio, and the woman who sat on a toilet for two years, we were tuned in to something much more interesting: Oslo’s foot. While running yesterday with me, Mies, and our Nike+, the poor little Weimenscrammer got his toe caught in a grate on Wisconsin Avenue. It got all red and swollen so we called the vet. Luckily, though, in the end it got better with a little TOC and a lot of Neosporin. The $80 we saved by cancelling the vet appointment was used to buy the next month’s supply of the Weims’ organic, free-range raw dog food.
Wed Mar 05 – Speaking of organic and free-range, this week Will and I have decided that while we’re not sure we can become strict vegans or even vegetarians, we do think we will embrace one of the following, as defined by Wikipedia:
Ovo-lacto-pesco-vegetarianism – A diet in which the only animal products consumed are eggs, milk, and fish.
Semi-vegetarianism — A diet in which the only animal flesh consumed is seafood and/or poultry, in limited amounts.
Pescetarianism — A diet in which the only animals consumed are fish or other seafood.
Flexitarianism — A diet that consists primarily of vegetarian food, but that allows occasional exceptions.
Talk about linguistic mumbo-jumbo! But after living with two dogs for the past few years, reading one too many grisly accounts of industrialized meat production, and consequently realizing how like humans other mammals are in their ability to feel and express emotion, we just can’t do the meat thing anymore. Not that I don’t like meat, I do (Red Mill Burgers – mmmmmmmmm….). Which then leads me to a struggle with buying leather shoes, in order not to be hypocritical. But I digress.
Anyhoo, these omnivore dilemmas are for us to struggle with, not the Weims. I’ve read about people who put their dogs on vegetarian diets and when I mentioned this to the boys, they were both like, NO EFFING WAY. Oslo was like, I’ll be on the next plane back to Stephanie’s if you don’t let me eat bovine organs and chicken necks. And Mies was all, take away my meat and I’ll find new forms of it to consume, like your Thomasville red leather couch, biotch!
Thurs Mar 06 – Speaking of vengeful mammals, today’s news involves Mies and his newfound ability to unlatch the door lock to the coat closet where we store a huge tub of dog kibble. That’s right. In addition to his long list of talents which include countersurfing, counterwalking, and cupboard-opening, please find lock-picking. Pretty amazing for a creature who lacks opposable thumbs.
Our new strategy is to keep the dog food (and the kitchen trash can) in the bathtub while we’re gone. It’s behind two locked doors, and hopefully out of his olfactory range.
Fri Mar 07 – While yesterday found me cursing the cunning and mastery of my youngest little grey monster, today finds Seth poetically extolling the wonders of Oslo via text message:
A silvery grey
shadow,
much as the moon
underneath
a veil of whispy
clouds,
you howl
like an uproar of
laughter
yet you speak to me in silence.
Yes, my son is a good writer.
Sat Mar 08 – While the housing market continues to tank and half the state of Vermont passes a resolution to impeach Bush & Co., Will and I decide to take advantage of other’s misfortunes by spending this afternoon looking at DC real estate. Housing prices in DC have not decreased as much as in other parts of the country, but the market here is not as strong as Seattle’s. Which is good news for stupid yuppies like us who want to buy.
In looking at properties, though, we have unique concerns. Unlike parents of small children who have to think about access to good schools, Babies R Us, and McDonald’s with play areas, we are worried about access to two things and two things only: parks and trails where we can let the dogs off-leash with minimal risk of discovery by animal control officers and good coffee shops that don’t allow suburban strollers containing screaming brats.
Sun Mar 09 – Speaking of screaming brats, today my son Seth turned 21. Unbelievable, I know. Sometimes when I tell people that I have a kid this old, they look at me and say, "NO YOU DON’T! What? Did you have him when you were like 12 or something?" And I’m all like, Ummmm, yeah, I do. I have the emotional scars of his teenage years and receipts for thousands of dollars of orthdontia care to prove it.
The next time someone asks me that, I’m going to say, "No, actually, I was eleven-and-a-half. But I started my period at age ten and have always been tall for my age. So, you know…guys thought I was older. That and I thought real babies were a helluva lot cuter than Cabbage Patch Kids."
Jeezus H. Christ, people!
Don’t ask stupid questions like that in lieu of a genuine compliment.
Mon Mar 10 – Nothing happened today unless you count the switch in national focus from campaign mudslinging and economic indicators to vaginas. First, we have three female high school students in upstate New York suspended for using the word "vagina" during their reading of the play…you’ll never guess…"The Vagina Monologues."
Second, of course, is the sensational vagina-related scandal in this same state; e.g., the now infamous Client-9 and Room 871.
This kind of stuff, of course, we try not to talk about in front of the Weims. They’re waaaaaay too young and impressionable.