Preparations
His bed is made. His room is ready. We are ready. Now we wait. We are waiting for Teddy's arrival.
Teddy is a dog. Well, a puppy to be precise. But preparing for Teddy's arrival has been a lot like preparing for the arrival of a baby.
Except we arranged Teddy's exact pick up time.
And there's less mesh underwear involved (read: none).
And there's been no torrent of late night tears into a tub of ice cream, anxieting over whether or not you're about to screw up the life of a brand new human being who will ultimately live to loath you, run away at the age of 16, and become the town's infamous drunk streaker.
So, yeah. I'm kind of banking on the hope that raising a puppy will be easier than raising a human. Because I'm already trying to raise three of those. And so far, I'm not doing so great at that. I mean, today I was called an asshole by my three year old. In the middle of church. And I only JUST discovered that my 6 year old hasn't worn a single pair of underwear since approximately February.
But enough of my fabulous parenting. Let's get back to Teddy.
So, my oldest son has been asking for a dog for a long time. For the past several years, my husband's answer has been a resounding "no." A couple months ago, that "no" softened to "maybe." Being a intuitive wife, I knew that "maybe" was as close as we were going to get to a "yes." And precisely that same day, I packed my mom-van full of kids, headed out to the nearest town, and immediately put a deposit on a one-day old puppy.
Because "Sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."
I haven't asked for either one yet.
But don't worry. I have four days to think of something.
I mean, look at that widdle face:
Teddy is a dog. Well, a puppy to be precise. But preparing for Teddy's arrival has been a lot like preparing for the arrival of a baby.
Except we arranged Teddy's exact pick up time.
And there's less mesh underwear involved (read: none).
And there's been no torrent of late night tears into a tub of ice cream, anxieting over whether or not you're about to screw up the life of a brand new human being who will ultimately live to loath you, run away at the age of 16, and become the town's infamous drunk streaker.
So, yeah. I'm kind of banking on the hope that raising a puppy will be easier than raising a human. Because I'm already trying to raise three of those. And so far, I'm not doing so great at that. I mean, today I was called an asshole by my three year old. In the middle of church. And I only JUST discovered that my 6 year old hasn't worn a single pair of underwear since approximately February.
But enough of my fabulous parenting. Let's get back to Teddy.
So, my oldest son has been asking for a dog for a long time. For the past several years, my husband's answer has been a resounding "no." A couple months ago, that "no" softened to "maybe." Being a intuitive wife, I knew that "maybe" was as close as we were going to get to a "yes." And precisely that same day, I packed my mom-van full of kids, headed out to the nearest town, and immediately put a deposit on a one-day old puppy.
Because "Sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."
I haven't asked for either one yet.
But don't worry. I have four days to think of something.
I mean, look at that widdle face:
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