tomato soup…


Mr. L hasn’t been feeling very well, so his appetite is out the window. I placed his lunch in front of him and he said, “No thank you”. “Phil, you have to eat something…” I replied. “Okay, bring me something worth eating,” He replied. “If I bring you soup?” I asked. “I’ll eat soup…” He replied. Twenty minutes later, I reemerged from the kitchen carrying a small bowl of tomato soup–his favorite; placed it down in front of him and he said, “No thank you…”

What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?

In all honesty, everything. Since we’ve been home from Disney, I’ve written four blogs, but have yet to publish them because they are mostly filled with me venting, less writing about my children. As a mean mommy, those blogs come across more as me being something more than mean and not necessarily a mommy.

So here I go again…

Our fifteen year old, unlikable Jack Russel Terrier, Dixie, has been making us suffer for going out of town last week. Though the dog tends to sleep most of the day, she wakes up, realizes she’s in her crate and begins to cry and bark until someone comes to let her out. “The trick is for her to fall asleep before we lock the crate,” He said at 1:30 this morning when her cries and barks were too hard to ignore. “She was asleep…” I replied with a groggy voice as I rolled over and he got out of bed.

This morning our doll said, “I tried my best to keep the dog from waking you up last night…” “She woke your dad and I up about 1:30 am,” I replied. “What? I went to bed about one… I had her outside several times. I think she’s senile and doesn’t recognize us anymore. Like she’s only following instinct to eat, go to the bathroom and find shelter. Except she’s not happy with her shelter anymore,” She explained. “Whatever she is, she’s a pain…” I said.

This morning I asked my hubby if she got much sleep after seeing to the dog’s need. “I did, about an hour and she was a good girl and did her business outside”. “Did you know she’d been outside more times between  11:30 and when you got up than all of yesterday?” I asked. “I thought I heard the doll trying to cajole her,” He replied adding, “She has to be asleep when you lock that crate…” “She was. She just enjoys torturing us,” I replied. “Maybe…” He said and the conversation came to a close.

Yep, the dog is exactly like tomato soup: an old favorite but not really wanted (especially in the middle of the night) at the moment.


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