The Dooce

I know there are people who feel the way that Calvin does, and I understand why, I really do.


If you’re someone who has ever been covered in multiple byproducts of children, pets, spouses, self, etc., while attempting to clean up, improve, repair, wash, etc., said problem, children, spouse, pet, self and were probably in your underwear and a t-shirt at the time…

…then you totally understand how I felt when, on Friday, the Boy came in the house bleeding from wrecking one of his *rocket-propelled vehicles in the street, friend and friend’s muddy shoes in tow, right as I was about to heed a rather urgent run-not-walk call to the restroom and damn near tripped over the dog when she stopped in my path to begin that oh-so-special doggy ballet of “I think I’ll just barf right HERE.”

And THIS will make complete sense to you.  Which, sorry, is why sometimes you just gotta love the Dooce.

(*rocket? = Boy.)

About dyskinesia

Woman, mother, human being, grammarian. I have Attention Deficit Disorder. My child has Asperger syndrome. Philosophy, laughter, therapy, living. Life after divorce.
This entry was posted in Kids, Left Field, Randomosity, The Boy, The Dog and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Dooce

  1. Kimmothy says:

    I’ve never felt such strong love/hate as I do for her with anyone else.

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