The day started like any other day. We woke up late and a tad hung-over from the previous night’s party with friends.
We ate breakfast and broke-up 13.6 fights between the kids.
I wrote a love note to the wife.
Then we decided to go to my wife’s second home, Ikea, to look at lofts for the boy’s room since he needs desk space.
After a couple hours of crying and listening to the boy say, “Oh, I want that bed, and that desk, and can I get a chair that wheels around, and I could put my trophies on my desk and move them when it’s time to do homework, and please daddy, please mommy?!”
But unfortunately we left without the purchase.
Then I made the mistake of a lifetime. Feeling bad that we got the kid all hyped-up and let him down, I whipped into the pet store right next to Ikea so we could let him pet hamsters and look at fish.
Twenty minutes later I find myself in a small “petting room” waiting for a dude that works there to bring us a puppy to play with.
Twenty more minutes later my wife, son, and daughter are literally clasping their hands together as if in group prayer and begging me to let them take the doggie home forever.
I gave it a good fight, I really did. But I lost and I lost hard.
When we first moved to Chicago three years ago we got a damn cat. Jasper.
Almost two years ago we got each of the kids a fish. Then one died. So we got another.
Then a few months ago the boy “had to have” a hamster. When I wasn’t looking the wife bought the little bastard a hamster.
Now...a Cavalier King Charles dog named Marty.
But, I’m going to look at the positive side of this. I’m going to focus on the many things young Marty and I have in common.
- If he’s not bathed regularly he stinks and leaves his musky scent all over the furniture. I do too…
- Currently the cat’s scared out of his mind, so one could say he scares pussy away. I do too…
- He was bred and we have his thorough pedigree chart. I guess in a way I was too…
- This furry bastard loves to have his belly rubbed nonstop. The dog does too…
- I’m going out on a limb and saying I’m pretty sure the dog doesn’t like to wear pants. We all know my feelings on those devil leg covers.
- And, I’m not going to lie, if you throw a ball near me I’m definitely going to go for it and bring it right back to you.
Now, if only I could figure out how to make my ass wag like a dog’s tail and have my wife whistle at me and talk to me like I’m 8 months old.