![]() A chris_lo day? What the heck is a chris_lo day? Well, I thought "Chris_Lo Day" sounded less icky than "Dingleberry Day." For those of you who do not know what a dingleberry is, consider yourself lucky. For those of you that do, I apologize. It turns out that French is the only language, short of Chinese and Japanese who have symbols in the their languages for dingleberry, is the only language that does not use the English word. I checked. Even the great "love languages" of Spanish and Italian call it a "dingleberry." What about other languages like German, Polish and Russia? Yep. You guessed it, they say "dingleberry" too. What led me down the path to having a chris_lo day you might ask Dear Reader? Well, allow me to enlighten you. My day began as usual, with an alarm that sounded too soon, a headache, yoga and being reminded by my human popcorn teenage daughter, Mia, that it was time to drive to school. (Already my day is off to a rocky start. A headache and being yelled at? Great. That's just peachy!) Every morning, the three of us girls (Mia, Lollipop, our dog and me, the blogger) head off to school. We always take Lolly. She loves the morning drive. Lolly bounds out of the house for her daily explore of our front yard. Today, Lolly would not come when I called her. "Lol-ly." I said in a sing-song voice. (Nothing.) "Lol-ly." In a little louder sing-song voice. "Lolly!" I screeched in a decidedly not sing-song voice that was, I thought, a threatening combination of both anger and frustration that would strike fear into her very doggie soul. (Still nothing.) Then, I saw the little ball of white fluff! Much to my chagrin, I saw her bum first. There she was, nose deep in goodness knows what or who know who's house. (If you haven't guessed already; now, I was mad AND late. A pretty lethal combination in a parent for a human-child but not a dog-child apparently. Oh no! She just kept exploring and ignoring, the little $^!t.) I finally interject enough fear into her through my voice to leave the engaging whatever-she-found and get in the car. As we drive the three blocks to school, Mia looks back at Lolly and says, "Oh God. She's so dirty and wet..." I knew those words could only mean one thing, the thing I really do not see as a "Sunday Crepe in Paris" at all. I knew the words, 'dirty and wet' meant someone had to give Lolly a bath... this morning... I actually contemplated leaving her, covered in a lovely combination of grass, leaves and mud as a sort of 'Welcome Home Honey' kind of gift for my husband Russell. (Hey! NO judging here at Mary's Kitchen!) I did not leave her this way but dearly wanted to leave her as she was; but, I figured she would probably enjoy it. In my mind, I am thinking 'Why reward Lolly for what she did? I will give her a bath but I WILL NOT be nice!' Yes, Dear Readers, I bathed her. I bathed her while I scolded her. I pulled all manner of yuck and grass from her coat. If you do not have a curly-haired dog, be grateful because grass in a curly-haired dog's coat is not fun! It is in there forever! You can scrub it out, brush it out, no matter; inevitably, a lot will get missed. The grass hides from you as if it is taking revenge on you for scolding your dog... I thought to myself, 'Which one of us is being punished here? Lolly looks like she is enjoying this? She's probably thinking she and I are bonding! Well damn!' It is impossible to remain angry at a dog. They look way too cute when they're wet and miserable and Lolly has a smile that could melt a heart determined to remain angry. Things were not going to plan. Now, you may not believe me, but, I was trying to focus on the upside of the situation. I was trying to think about how Lolly was clean now and how cute and pitiful she looks when she's wet. I was trying to do this and nearly there in fact when I found it... The dreaded chris_lo! Oh... YUCK! The memory of the moment will haunt me for the day... I thought to myself, 'Could I leave this as a Welcome Home Honey gift?' I nearly did too! Seriously! (Remember, NO judging!) Then, I thought about Sunday Crepes in Paris again to quell the nausea that inevitably follows finding a chris_lo. Nope. Thinking about any kind of anything to "savor" was not helping... I just had to grow a pair and deal with it. I messaged our older daughter Alyssa about the chris_lo so I could commiserate with someone about my morning and you want to know what she messaged back? Wait for it... "Oh well. She's like a toddler." Thanks Lyssy. This is helpful. Like a toddler? Are you kidding me? I thought I was finished dealing with poop? Of course I am not finished dealing with poop, I am a dog owner! When dogs aren't making it, they are eating it! When they're not making it, you are worried about why not? When they make it, you have to deal with it. It is a vicious cycle! Speaking of eating... Sorry, I just wanted to end today's blog on a high note... I guess I will have to try to that tomorrow. Share your (unfortunate) chris_lo stories and we can laugh together about the joys of pet ownership.
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Mary GrubeAvid home cook and passionate instructor Archives
May 2019
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