Gas Masks, Gymnastics and GOOD GOD, WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?

Puppies are a lot of work.  Someone should have warned me.  In the last 30 days, I’ve been up more in the middle of the night than a hungry raccoon.

 

Four score and ten nights ago, I was sleeping soundly when I heard, “Whine, whine, scratch, scratch!”

 

I elbowed my husband.  “Your turn,” I mumbled into my pillow.

 

He sighed and got up.  Two seconds later, I heard, “SAMMI!  OH MY GOSH!” (sound of gagging – not from the dog, but my husband).

 

He turned on every light in the house while cursing loudly.  “SON OF A *&#*&$*#&$*&#*&$#&!” he yelled. 

 

I stumbled to the hallway and asked, “What is going on?”

 

Just then, a green cloud blew down the hall into my face.  “OH MY GOSH!” (sound of gagging – not from the dog, but from me)

 

“She made a mess in her kennel,” my husband grumbled as he grabbed a roll of paper towels, the disinfectant, a gas mask, and rubber gloves.

 

“I’m going in,” he said.  “If I don’t come out in 15 minutes, come get me.”

 

“He’s got to be kidding,” I thought to myself.  “If he doesn’t come out, it won’t take me that long to find a new husband.”

 

I headed back to bed and fourteen minutes later, I listened as my husband carried the puppy outside while saying, “Potty outside, NOT inside!”

 

Suddenly, I heard, “CRASH, CRASH!  YIPE!  YIPE!”

 

I ran to the sliding doors just as my husband limped in.  “I think I really hurt myself,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I slipped on the frost on the deck and did a three-and-a-half gainer, double toe loop.”

 

After checking to make sure nothing was broken, I gave him a pill and sent him back to bed.  “If the United States gymnastics team calls and wants you to try out for the Olympics, what should I say?” I joked.

 

“Very funny,” he answered.

 

The next morning, I called a friend and told her the story.  “I just want to know one thing,” she said.  “Did he stick the landing?”

 

I never knew it was this much work to potty train a dog.  Someone should have warned me.

 

“Can we put a diaper on her?” I asked my husband deliriously one morning after the thirtieth night without any sleep.

 

“I wish,” he said as he shook the empty coffee can on the kitchen counter.  “Did you chew the coffee grounds so you could stay awake at work after lunch?”

 

“I’m sorry!” I shouted.  “I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since we brought that puppy home! By the way, how’s that groin muscle you pulled during that award-winning gymnastic performance on the deck the other night?”

 

“Listen puppy breath,” he snarled.  “I’m just as tired as you are and now I can’t even have a cup of coffee!”

 

“I’m sorry,” I said as I hugged him.  “Let’s not take this out on each other.”

 

I looked down as the puppy chewed on our toes.  “She is pretty cute, isn’t she?” I said.

 

“Not as cute as you,” he replied.  “Even when you have coffee grounds stuck between your teeth like you do right now.”

 

As we kissed, I suddenly felt a warm liquid flow slowly over our toest.

 

“SON OF A *&#*&$*#&$*&#*&$#&!” we said in unison.

 

 

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About Vicky DeCoster

Award-winning humor writer Vicky DeCoster is the author of "From Diapers to Dorkville," "Husbands, Hot Flashes, and All That Hullabaloo!" and "The Wacky World of Womanhood." She has been published in over 60 magazines, books, and on several web sites. Vicky lives in Nebraska with her husband and two children where she loves to laugh every day. Visit her at www.wackywomanhood.com.
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