The Weekend I Decided I'm Never Having Children

My Memorial Day weekend was so jam-packed full of fun and exciting events that I just know you are going to be super jealous.

Because who wouldn't want to sit on the couch all holiday weekend with absolutely nothing to do?

Definitely not me... I'm all about activities that can put your brain into a minor coma.

Josh was out of town this weekend for his mom's 50th, so to say my weekend was more boring than usual is an understatement. With the exception of mooching a movie and dinner off  of my parents for two nights in a row, I stayed inside the entire weekend (and Monday because Josh works for the only Chicken Coop in town that didn't close early).

So my holiday weekend consisted of catching up on some work, reading a few books, and taking care of our dogs. Which to most people would mean putting some food in a bowl and making sure they go out three times a day.

But no. We have to have two of the most high maintenance dogs in the history of the entire world.

I'm sure of it.

The fact that I did not give away one of our dogs this weekend is a testament of my love for my husband only. Because if it was just me, the Holy Terror would now be living in a home that doesn't mind waiting on a dog hand and foot (or paw and paw).

Because this weekend - of all weekends - Dunkin decided to have a major case of the D's. If you don't know what that is, use your imagination.

So between running the dog outside every 30 minutes (in the pouring rain, mind you) and giving him a bath every other time, my patience was running a little thin and my compassion meter a little low.

I may or may not have told him just exactly what I thought of the situation and demanded that he "hold it" until I felt like going outside.

In a really sweet and compassionate tone, of course.

{Just in case you were wondering, that didn't work. Reasoning with a dog is apparently just a testament to my growing insanity as a person.}

I think it was when Dunkin decided to start throwing up hydrocholoric acid in addition to everything else that I finally lost it. If he had been sick, I may have had an ounce of compassion.

But he wasn't sick. That's just normal, everyday, tempermental Dunkin for you.

Like I said, he's the most high maintenance dog in the history of the world. I've pretty much given up on the hope of ever getting to go on a vacation any time in the next ten years because there's no way I would submit anyone to his level of crazy when we (or just Josh) are gone.

Really, it's quite depressing.

Anyway, as I worked to do everything within my power not to knock on my neighbor's door and ask her if she wanted a free dog, I informed Josh that I am never, ever, ever having children if it's anything like taking care of Dunkin.

Thankfully Josh knows to just let me vent and get all my crazy ideas out there, so he said what any smart husband would say - "Ok".

Because he knows that in ten years I will totally change my mind. But until then, I will enjoy living my life child-free.

Well, as much as that is possible with the Holy Terror living under our roof.

 

This is how he acts when Josh comes home.

 

Yep. I'm pretty sure he hates me.