A Letter to My Local Bank, on Behalf of my Dog

Dear WSFS,

Back in July I heard that you would be holding a Pet Contest during the month of September. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for my dog, Mr. Bojangles, to shine.

Over the last few years he’s worked really hard to totally transform himself from the inside out. He was once overweight and prone to bite Girl Scouts but now, through therapy and discipline, he’s slim, happy, and welcomes small children bearing Thin Mints.   One day I said to myself “He’s ready to debut the new Bojangles and leave his transgressions behind”. It was later that evening that I heard of your contest. Fate had delivered.

We began work immediately.  As a former Little Miss Delaware 1979, I’m familiar with the dedication and persistence it takes to win. And Mr. Bojangles, a working breed, was up for the challenge.

I made an appointment with the top groomer in town. I had Bo’s nails trimmed, his coat conditioned, and his anal glands expressed twice (once because he needed it and a second time because he seemed to enjoy it).

After that it was off to the stylist to pick out just the right looks for the swimwear, evening wear, and talent portion of the contest. It took furever (get it?) to find just the right blue to match his eyes.

For the past 4 weeks we have been working intensely on his talent. Initially I was going to have him sing “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dione (it’s a total tear jerker) but as it turns out, Mr. B is capable of only hearing high pitches, not singing them.

“…whereeever you arrree…”

So instead we decided to focus on something he’s naturally good at. It was his idea to walk onto the stage, impressively fill 5 water glasses with varying heights of urine, and then tap the tune  “God Bless America” using a spoon he’d hold in his mouth. He’s a very talented and ambitious dog but rehearsals have been a bit of a mess.

urineglasses

I estimate that we have easily invested hundreds of dollars and tens of hours into preparing for this contest. So you can imagine my shock and anger when I received the official rules and guidelines which basically stated “submit a lousy picture and we’ll let you know if your pet won in one of three categories, blah, blah, blah”.

Are you kidding me???  No talent competition, interviews, or opportunities to strike a pose? How are you able to determine which dog is the “Best in Show”, “Most Personality”, or “Best with Kids”  by a simple picture? Maybe that pic of him biting the Girl Scout will look like he’s giving her a real deep kiss and he could win the “Best With Kids” category. Ha! I’d love to see Troop 357’s reaction when I mail them a copy of that congratulatory letter!

I finally broke the news to Mr.Bojangles last night over Mai Tai’s.  At first, it didn’t quite register, then he appeared confused…

Come again?

Whatcha talking about Willis?

Finally it sunk in that he just wasted the past three months of his life (2 dog years) preparing for a 1 shot photo contest. We both knew that one submission of a dachshund  wearing a stupid hot dog costume could ruin everything he’s worked for. He lost it! He started tearing my couch cushion apart!

His anger was contagious!

I’ve never seen him like that, well except every Friday when the Fed-ex man delivers my Keurig K-cups.

Today he asked me to submit this photo of him in a grassy meadow (I didn’t want to do it but he insisted):

 

I got your ‘Best in Show’ right here!

Please notify us if he’s a winner.

Thank you,

Kim S.

www.oneclassymotha.com

 

Confessions to my children.

-I don’t like sharing my water bottle with you. You put your lips over the whole opening and when you hand it back to me you’re still connected to it by spittle and there’s pieces of food floating in it. It’s disgusting.

-It was us, your mother and father, who bought you the expensive train table, DSi, Sony Playstation, and vacation to Disney- not Santa. And we want some damn gratitude!

-Sometimes I want to skip the whole bedtime routine. I once peed in the backyard while waiting for the babysitter to put you to bed. I sat on the deck and didn’t come in until she texted me you were asleep.

-Sometimes it grosses me out to hold your hand because I know that you were probably just picking your nose.

-I don’t really “go poopy” 5 times a day. I’m most likely in the bathroom reading Vogue, Cosmo, or Better Homes and Garden while making grunting noises.

-It was me, not that gang of squirrels, that ate your Cheddar Goldfish while you were on the swings. And squirrels can’t shoot acorns from their asses as a form of intimidation, I made that up too.

-The park wasn’t closed for slide resurfacing. I just wanted to go home and take my bra and tight jeans off.

-We really do miss you while we’re on vacation, but just at the very end. During the beginning and middle we’re feeling pretty good.

-Yeah… I knew that vaccine shot was going to hurt. “It’ll feel like a mosquito bite” was total BS so I could get you through the door without making a scene.

-Sometimes I prefer the company of the dog because, even though his breath smells like fish (why?), I never get the feeling that he’s deliberately trying to piss me off. Oh, and he and I sometimes talk about you. It’s his opinion that I should try crate training, the fact that you still occasionally crap your pants disgusts him.

-Being a mother is the most difficult, challenging, and exhausting thing I have ever done in my entire life. But at the same time, you are the the most wonderful and amazing person that’s ever happened to me. There is not one moment spent with you that I would trade for all the gold in the world…except maybe that time you threw up in my face.

What’s your confession? I promise not to tell them until they have children of their own.

My Saturday Morning

As I lay there dreaming of puppies and kittens, I was awakened by something being shoved up my nose and a voice saying “Eww, smell my finger, it stinks!”

Needless to say, I snapped my head away so quickly that I pulled a muscle in my neck. Thanks Ana, I now require warm up exercises to check my side view mirrors when driving.

I yelled “beat it, kid!” and pulled the covers over my head.  I had to get back to my flowery meadow where kittens play soccer with balls made of yarn and puppies work the concession stand selling hot dogs…hot dogs.  Hahaha, dogs selling dogs!Subconscious, you’re a freakin genius!

But moments later Collin came into my bedroom complaining of how hungry he was.  He was getting on my damn nerves with cries of  “I’m seriously starving”, “I’m going to die if I don’t eat”, and my favorite “My body is starting to shut down”. This went on for hours- it was sooo annoying!

I eventually went downstairs and found him sitting at the kitchen table holding a fork and sucking in his stomach so that his ribs were showing. I firmly (bitchingly) told him I wasn’t his slave and he could have fed himself if he was so damn hungry (though I didn’t say “damn” because I don’t curse in front of my kids…not that they can hear anyway).

Collin- “But we don’t have anything to eat”

Me- “Oh really, is that right? We only have a whole refrigerator full of stuff you could feed yourself with.”

Collin – “Like what?”

Me- (opening the refrigerator and looking in) “you could have had…umm

(tip: a mother must never lose a battle of wits no matter how much BS you to need to pull out of your ass to win)

…umm.. pickles, salami, mayo, limes…no wait, those limes are for my margaritas, don’t touch them. But everything else is totally edible.”

We both knew I was full of crap…what we really had was a refrigerator full of condiments, expired lunch meats, and bacterial yogurt that makes you poop 10x a day.

Mental notes:

go to the grocery store

clean out the fridge

tell Ana to keep her hands out of her pants

 

After he ate he must of felt bad about the whole thing because he offered to feed the dog.

 Me- “No thanks,Mr.Bojangles already ate.”

Collin- “What? When?” looking confused

Me- “Earlier. He seemed hungry so I jumped out bed, fed him, and made your sister a 3 egg omelet with toast. Then I went back to sleep. Why do you think I was so tired?”

Of course It wasn’t true, but it had the desired effect of pissing him off.

Passive-Aggressive Tactics

Me- 1

Collin- 0

 

Around 10:30am I met a couple of the girls down at the lake for a 5 mile run. Hahaha, I know, right! No way in hell was I able to do a 5 mile run- but as my family always says, I’d go to a shit eating contest if I could go alone. It’s one of my mottos along with “Half-assed is better than no ass” and “There’s no “i” in team but there is an “m” and an “e”” (I think you heard me use that last motto here.)

These girls were no joke, wearing their running gear, complete with multiple distance tracker thingies and an iPhone velcroed to their arm. I assumed we would slowly warm up by walking for the first 2 miles while discussing hairstyles, boys, and our periods. Nope, I got a “let’s go!” and they started running. WTF? STARTED freakin running! I threw my iPhone in my cleavage and prayed I had enough boobage to keep it there.

I managed to keep up with them for what felt like hours but what was actually a half mile. Then I got side tracked when I saw the cows at the nearby farm lined up at the fence. I waved to them like I usually do when I pass, but I didn’t get much of an acknowledgement. They didn’t recognize me without my car.

Is that you Kim? Did your car break down?

Sometime during the first mile I lost sight of the girls. Good riddance. They were only a reminder of how much I sucked. So I texted them the following message:

And that’s what I did. They invited me to go running with them again next weekend. I laughed and slipped each one a $20 and said “if my husband asks, that’s exactly what I’m doing. And there’s another $20 in it for you if you stop by the lake afterwards to give me believable details of our run “.

There are a lot of things I can do…

1. Give a cat CPR and bring him back from the dead. (And he still hated me.)

2. Open a wine bottle with only a screw and pliers.

MacGyver with a drinking problem.

3. Roller skate backwards after 3 beers (but not before).

We have it on video if anyone needs proof.

but I cannot run 3 2 1 mile to save my life! That’s ok, I’ll just pretend I did and continue to sit by the lake.

Please take a moment to acknowledge my shaved ankles.

A Sunday pic

I normally don’t post on the weekend but…

Brian bought Ana a princess clock even though she can’t tell time and she already wakes up way too early for our liking.  But she had to have it.  $6.95 for a happy child? Seems worth it. Can’t buy love? Yes you can.

Anyway, she has taken this clock everywhere with her this weekend and sometimes leaves it behind. I was getting sick of backtracking to find it so I decided to put it on a string so she can wear it around her neck. Does this look familiar?

The resemblance is uncanny. We already call her Lil’ Kim because she looks like me.  But instead of calling her Flavor Flav, I suggested she get her own appropriate stage name like, Pooper poop,

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