You know that feeling you get right before a 3-day weekend? I had that on Friday…and it lasted precisely 14 minutes. Let me give you a little background:
A few weeks ago, I ordered new storage and dressers from IKEA for the kids and me. The day before they were to be delivered and assembled, we donated our bookshelves and dressers to charity and put all our clothes, books, and other general crap into neat little piles on the floor. Just in time for our IKEA booty to arrive…damaged. F-bomb.
TWO WEEKS LATER, IKEA FINALLY RETURNED OUR PHONE CALL
(I’m not bitter AT ALL.)
A little more background: Dottie had been limping for a few days, so I took her to the vet who sent us home with some anti-inflammatories and an order to keep the hound mostly confined to her crate for 2 weeks to let her elbows calm down. I complied, and on delivery day that’s where she was. Since Friday was a working day for me, my dad agreed to play the waiting game (“We’ll arrive when we feel like it between 2 a.m. and 11 p.m. on Friday”) and let the workers in to do their thang.
So I leave work on Friday, so happy to finally have a place to put everything AWAY. On the way home, my phone rings and it’s my mom, telling me that in the time it took my dad to go from the apartment to the gate to let the workers in and come back, Dottie had had a blowout of epic proportions in her crate.
So I get home, and I’m telling you it was like World War III. If dog diarrhea were a chemical weapon I’d have been a war lord. It was EVERYWHERE, including all over the hound. And OHMYGOD the stench. Those poor workers! (They got a really big tip.) Dottie was totally traumatized and howling, and on top of everything the Tall Ships Festival was happening a few blocks away and the ships kept firing their cannons and freaking her out even more. Ugh.
I’m not exaggerating when I say it took a full two hours to clean up that mess. And when it was finally over – workers were gone, stench was gone, all was assembled – I sat on the couch with the freshly washed hound dog and put up my feet. My dad and I sighed with relief that the mess was over and we’d all soon be heading out for dinner across the street. He got up to leave – “see you in an hour” – at which point Dottie projectile-vomited all over me.
And thus began the weekend that I thought would never end. But it did. And Zoë started third grade today, Niko started Pre-K. I took the day off to be sure I’d be the one to pick them up. Four more hours to go…
And now I will lock myself in a dark room and take a nap to recover from the “relaxing” three-day weekend. Sweet dreams to me!