Pearl: There’s a dog across the street! GO AWAY BLACK DOG!
Me: Pearl hush.
Pearl: DAWG! BLACK! ACROSS THE STREET! DO SOMETHING!
Me: Pearl, he’s not even in our yard. Calm down.
Pearl: He’s PEEING! Oh my dawg! He’s peeing across the street and you’re just sitting there like you don’t have a care in the world. WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU?
Me: Pearl, quit yelling at me. He’s not hurting anything.
Pearl: How can you say that? He has left pee mail everywhere. Quick! Get me some water! I gotta make more pee.
Me: You’re joking right?
Pearl: Does this look like my happy face? I’ve got lots of work to do now. The pee mail is all wrong.
*10 minutes later*
Pearl: So you see Officer, I obviously had no choice. My legs are only 4 inches long so it’s hard to pee that high. She could have easily helped with the pee mail but would she? NO! Besides, just look at my precious little paws. Do these look like the kind of paws that could have tied her shoe laces together and watched her drop like a rock? I THINK NOT! (You should paw print Jasper though. He has beady eyes.)
Meet Ted. E. Bear. He lives above my mantel with two of his friends. Do you ever wonder who the first guy was to stuff a dead animal and bring it in the house? How did that conversation even happen?
“Hey Bobby Jack, I just kilt this here critter and I was a thinkin. It aint good enough to just eat the meat. Lets stuff this sucker and hang his head on the wall.”
How did Bobby Jack talk his wife into letting him do this? “Now Ethel, you know you’re meaner than an Ol’ snake and I just thought it be right nice to have a happy face in this house.”
I’m pretty sure it’s a requirement to keep dead things in the house when you live in Arkansas. It only turns strange when you start to dress them up. Ok, so Ted does enjoy his santa hat at Christmas and has been known to wear garland like a feather boa.
Where do we go from here? Next thing you know we’ll be stuffin’ Uncle Earl and settin’ him at the dinner table.
What are you doing? You’re reading this aren’t you. Someone will know. You’re such a rebel. Rule breaker! You might as well keep going now. I feel I must tell you though, these are minutes of your life that you can’t get back. Somewhere in your heart you just know there will be a life changing bit of knowledge in here. Your vested now. There is no turning back.
DON’T SCROLL DOWN! Didn’t think I would notice you skipping ahead? Seriously, can you just try to be good for once.
Ok, so here it is. Shame, failure, my little secret. I saw a post on facebook that said “If you love your Mother, share this post in 2 seconds.” I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I hesitated. Then I just didn’t do it. I know, how do I sleep at night? Yesterday I didn’t love Jesus in 10 seconds. How do I live with myself? How can I go on with this sham I’m living?
Will I burn in hell now? Is there hope for my recovery? I fear I may have crossed a line that I cannot return from. If you see my vacant soul roaming the streets please return it to my husband. He is hungry and out of clean undies now.
Things I learned today:
- A 9.5 foot kayak will fit in my car.
- Windshields’ don’t budge when shoving 9.5 foot kayaks in your car.
- Never listen to my husband.
Me: Do you think it’s safe to drive like this?
Husband: Why sure, you’ll just get a bit of wind that’s all.
Me: Ok, if you say so.
Husband: When you get home put mine in there too.
Husband: Really, it will fit.
Me: Pearl, you have to lose some weight.
Pearl: What’s weight? I don’t want to lose anything. Old people lose stuff and I’m not old.
Me: Pearl, I’m telling you the vet says you’re fat. You are 2 pounds over weight.
Pearl: VET? That man is crazy. You’re taking advice from a man who puts sticks in my butt and pokes around on me?
Me: It’s for your own good. He is simply checking your health.
Pearl: FINE! Next time let him put sticks in your butt.
Me: The Vet can’t put…. oh dear..
Pearl: See! The man is crazy.
Me: But Pearl, you can get arthritis from being over weight.
Pearl: Kool! I’ve never had an arthritis before. Does it taste like chicken?
Me: NO! Arthritis is pain in your joints. It is not food.
Pearl: Well, why on earth would you want to give me arthritis then? That’s it! That’s the last time you’re hanging around that crazy Vet. He puts the strangest ideas into your head.
Me: No Pearl, you have to stop eating so much food or you will get arthritis.
Pearl: I’ll just refuse to take it. I don’t want arthritis so I’ll just say no when that crazy Vet tries to give it to me. It’s probably on them white sticks he tries to put in my butt.
Me: Why do I bother?
Pearl: I don’t know but we need to hurry cause it’s happy hour at Sonic and I need my banana taffy slushee.
I like to scream to relieve stress. It freaks out the callers a bit but they should know better than to call when I’m busy. I’m learning to organize better though. I have piles for everything. There’s the “Got more problems than I got time for” pile. The “Doable and hope to get to real soon” pile. The “They want me to do some extra stuff” pile. And of course the “This is what’s in front of me so I’m gonna work on this” pile.
I started with sticky notes everywhere and I’ve upgraded to copy paper covered in “URGENT” notes. “Can not forget these things.”
Never fear though, I can do anything. I actually really like this job. It’s just that I spend most days chasing my own tail. I feel like a squirrel on espresso.
I was watching a video this morning when this occurred to me. Why do Caucasian gals think we’re supposed to look like toothpicks yet African American girls are perfectly fine with the junk in their trunk? I wonder if my inner Shameka is coming out as I get older. Can I just change my reasoning and be comfortable in my own skin? OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOhhh, If Shameka does come out will I suddenly be able to dance?
What if Shameka and my alter ego Sabrina don’t get along? Hmm…. They can fight that out with Mr. Shrink.
Yes, I know. This post is full of stereotypes but the truth is. I can’t dance and I’m too fat to be a white girl anymore. I’m thinking about changing races.
Securing the perimeter is very serious business.
The ears must be locked and loaded at all times.
Shhh! Did you hear that?? I’m pretty sure it’s an evil kitty.
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! DID YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THAT THING?
Mornin’ Y’all! Pearl woke me up at 6:30 this morning with slobbery kisses. She had determined that I had slept too long. She’s pretty sure she knows what’s best for me.
Yesterday I took the chi’s for a long walk down main street. As usual we bumped into complete strangers that Pearl insisted should scratch behind her ears as in accordance with the prophecy. So, I got to thinking. (I know, it’s a dangerous path for me to take.) Anyway, how does this silly little dog manage to be adored by complete strangers? What is it about her that makes the neighbor’s kid jump the fence to come pet her?
I think it’s because she knows when to keep her mouth shut. (A trait I have yet to master.) Sure she whines when she’s hungry or needs to potty but she never makes small talk. I see her thinking sometimes. She’ll just stare into space and I would love to know what is going through her little brain but she never shares. She keeps her private thoughts to herself. You can never disagree with her views as she will not tell you what they are.
Life would probably be better if I were more like Pearl. Just keep my trap shut and greet everyone like they were the best thing I’ve seen all day. It only takes a wag of her tail to make people smile.
Yesterday an old man pulled to a screeching halt in the middle of the road. He rolled down his window and yelled “How much will you take for one of them?” I responded “About 3 million dollars”. He laughed and drove away.
I wish I had her gift of making people happy.