October 11th, 2016
Dear Todd,
Since my last entry I have observed how smelly boys can be and how mean girls can be. This next 'bout of parenting seems awesome. I'll take smelly over mean any day. So if our house is super stinky, remember to be thankful it's not super mean. Cuz I won't do both. We are going "All Stink. All Day. Hold the Emotionally Nasty."
Also...our Dog is Typhoid Petey. Don't know where or how he got Kennel Cough, but he's sharing it with every dog within a 1 mile radius---even those with the bordatella vaccine. He's a giver. What makes this awesome is I'm now the "Mean Girl" who holds her dog tightly on walks and won't let him meet passing dogs or say hello for fear of "sharing." And I can't take Petey to the dog park because he will share with all the dogs. And then they will share. And so on. And in little to no time, I will go down in history as the woman responsible for the Poudre Puppy Plague.
But he needs to run. So I may have to run. He's gonna make me get in shape. Damn him. I hate running.
BUT I DIGRESS...
Really I wanted to tell you about a moment that is not full of my usual sarcasm, rather it was a stolen moment with our youngest that will be forever imprinted on my heart. It took place right after the rest of you left the movie theater. There we were...the last two in an empty theater. The music was still playing as the credits rolled and instead of leaving, he ran right to the front of the screen. I was still standing in the dividing row, that faced him from a few rows up. We faced each other, dropped our empty cups and popcorn containers on the ground, and danced. Danced like we were in our own living room at home. Spinning, jumping, mirroring each other. When the song stopped, we had tears of laughter and couldn't contain a loud giggle as we ran past the stoic employee coming up the hallway to sweep popcorn.
Dear Todd,
Since my last entry I have observed how smelly boys can be and how mean girls can be. This next 'bout of parenting seems awesome. I'll take smelly over mean any day. So if our house is super stinky, remember to be thankful it's not super mean. Cuz I won't do both. We are going "All Stink. All Day. Hold the Emotionally Nasty."
Also...our Dog is Typhoid Petey. Don't know where or how he got Kennel Cough, but he's sharing it with every dog within a 1 mile radius---even those with the bordatella vaccine. He's a giver. What makes this awesome is I'm now the "Mean Girl" who holds her dog tightly on walks and won't let him meet passing dogs or say hello for fear of "sharing." And I can't take Petey to the dog park because he will share with all the dogs. And then they will share. And so on. And in little to no time, I will go down in history as the woman responsible for the Poudre Puppy Plague.
But he needs to run. So I may have to run. He's gonna make me get in shape. Damn him. I hate running.
BUT I DIGRESS...
Really I wanted to tell you about a moment that is not full of my usual sarcasm, rather it was a stolen moment with our youngest that will be forever imprinted on my heart. It took place right after the rest of you left the movie theater. There we were...the last two in an empty theater. The music was still playing as the credits rolled and instead of leaving, he ran right to the front of the screen. I was still standing in the dividing row, that faced him from a few rows up. We faced each other, dropped our empty cups and popcorn containers on the ground, and danced. Danced like we were in our own living room at home. Spinning, jumping, mirroring each other. When the song stopped, we had tears of laughter and couldn't contain a loud giggle as we ran past the stoic employee coming up the hallway to sweep popcorn.
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