“Are you fucking kidding me?” This is what I asked the puppy this morning. He was not kidding me, fucking or otherwise.
I thought I should share this in case anyone’s wondering why I didn’t have children. My kid would show at their first day of school and mutter, “Are you fucking kidding me?” Or they would tell another kid, “My mom says your mom is a flake.”
It’s cool in Richmond this morning but I’m a little sweaty from chasing Harry and redirecting him away from gnawing furniture or showing too keen an interest in Georgie’s private parts - as if they were a chew toy.
This year, my mom spent Thanksgiving with her sister and her sister’s children. Thanksgiving snuck up on me this year so Andrea and I spent it with our furry family. We had purchased a ready made dinner at the Fresh Market grocery store which is like a smaller, less expensive Whole Foods. Having no company on a holiday is freeing in a way - you can take a nap, you don’t need to make any proclamations of when dinner will be served, and you can skip wearing a bra if you’d like. All of which I avoided. Success. We had turkey breast and shared with the pets, minus Lola and our tortoise. Lola didn’t come downstairs all the much before we brought Harry home and she now comes home less. But she did make an appearance in the 2nd floor bathroom overnight to pee on my pants I left there. That’ll teach me. Well, probably not.
Today we are taking Harry and Georgie to the river cottage. Georgie thinks the cottage is his, and maybe it is, so I hope he welcomes us all into it this weekend.
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