So it’s about 12:30 AM Sunday night, and I am post-hockey game tired. I know I’ve been through this before, but the point bears repeating; post-hockey tired is not just tired, it’s tired and hella-body fatigued. I like the feeling, honestly, because it makes me think I actually got some exercise, but damn, by midnight…stick a fork in me.
At any rate, so I’m not feeling terribly snarky or satire-tastic tonight. I’m feeling like it’s sleepy-time, truth be told. So here’s what you get, a quick rundown of my ever-so-mostly-mundane weekend.
As faithful readers already know, I finally sat down for some Avatar action Friday night. I enjoyed the movie, no question, but still don’t get the crazed devotion and overwhelming zeal it inspired. It was entertaining, yes; damned entertaining, actually, but as a movie with a plot, I think The Dark Knight was without question better overall. Just my opinion; I welcome debate.
We spent most of Saturday afternoon in pursuit of the perfect dog. I know it seems like with four kids aged 7, 6, (almost) 5, and 18 months, respectively, we’re largely certifiable to even be considering adding a dog to the family. Honestly, though, the thing is, I want a dog, a lot. To me, a family isn’t quite complete without one. Mostly, I reckon that’s because, as a kid, we had one perpetually from the time I was about 10 years old. The thing is, though, my kids aren’t 10 years old; they are so not quite to the “taking responsibility for the pet” stage just yet. While I sense the shake of heads out there as parents of kids with pets think, “Poor sweet, foolish, Puddin, it doesn’t how much broccoli you barter, how many room cleanings you’re promised, how many daily walks you’re assured the kids will themselves handle; if you get a dog, you know who will be dealing with it daily.”
It’s a fair guess to assume it won’t be the Oompa Loompas.
Long story short, having a dog would probably throw quite a wrench into the prized weekly routine, and the Puddinette isn’t sure she’s ready to start chucking tools into the gears of our well-oiled family machine just yet. She understands that I really, really want a dog, and because she’s a wonderful wife who wants her husband to be happy, that makes her want to want to have a dog.
No, that wasn’t a typo. She absolutely wants to want a dog, but she isn’t so certain that she wants a dog on a daily basis. If I worked at home full time, and could be ready at a moment’s notice to handle doggy issues, that’d be one thing. Instead, I spend about 10 hours every day someplace else. That means I would be blissfully off at work, unaware of the fact that our little canine furball is lifting his/her leg on the good living room coffee table, because there’s just no way to put a toddler down for a nap while simultaneously walking a dog.
Now, if we had a fence, well, that would change things mightily; she’d just have to open the back door and give our canine pal some time to heed nature’s call. Unfortunately, we have no such boundary, which means there’d be no choice but to break out the leash and the pooper scooper. And that, my friends, just isn’t going to happen while we still have kids not quite in full-day school.
So, the long and short of it is, after our Saturday misadventures, we concluded that before a dog, we need a fence. Once we have it, I’ll adopt a dog as soon as I can find one well-suited and well-tempered for the family. Until then, why, yes, we are taking donations for a barricade around stately Puddin Manor. By all means, let me know if you’d like to make a donation to the cause.