Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I like your Shooooooes

I was taking Drew to school today and we pulled up behind one of her classmates. His mom was getting out of her truck to get him and his little sister out of the passenger side and Drew says to me “That’s Nick's mom.”

As I’m getting out of the car and proceed to get Drew unbuckled from the car seat she says, “Come on Dad!!! We gotta go!”

“Really?”, I asked. What’s the rush?

“Just come on.”, she says.

We are now walking at a fast pace AROUND Nick, his mom and his sister.

“I can run”, Drew says. “I’m feeling much better today.”

“No, I think we’ll walk.” But we walk very briskly to the back of the school for her class. Drew points out several other classmates along the way, but we seem to be in a race to get to the door.

I manage to get a hug AND a kiss out of her today. A feat that is no small miracle, when normally she usually runs right for the sign in board and then for the tables with her friends. But today, we seem to be lingering by the classroom door.

I sign her in and she says goodbye and heads off for her day.

On my way out, I pass Nick, his mom and his little sister. Mom is saying something about how Drew has already made it to class because little sister is taking her time. She’s cute as a button with little curls and singing to herself and taking in the scenery without a care in the world.

As I pass by I tell her that I like her shoes and she says to me “And I like your Shooooooooooes!”, with a big old grin and without missing a beat to her little tune. Her mom and I crack up and I head back to the car.

I call Tina to tell her that our “Package” has been delivered as I do every morning after dropping Drew off at school and tell her my story. As I do, I remember the previous night’s conversation with our daughter about her friends in class. Not one girls name was mentioned. All boys.

Tina turned to me and said, “We’re gonna have our hands full with this one”.

To which Drew replied, “You sure are.”

This Sunday, I’m going shopping for that shotgun and I’m signing Mooch up for Teenage Boy Chew-toy Training.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Mission: Impoochable

Cue the Peter Gunn theme music. Exterior: Night.

We had our Chocolate Lab Mooch for about 2 years now. He’s always been pretty normal, but we recently adopted a sister for him, Belle, who is a Yellow Lab about 6 months old. Since then, he’s changed.

Not in a bad way. He’s become more playful. Like a puppy I guess you could say. He plays with Belle constantly and looks like a lost pup himself when it’s time for her to go back into her crate for awhile. The most significant change though, has been recently when we let them out in the backyard.

Belle is just a puppy. She’s in a hurry to get everywhere and everything is interesting. She darts out the back door and flies through the yard like a kid with a sugar rush on Mountain Dew and Red Bull mixers. Her tongue hangs out the side of her mouth, ears pulled back for “aerodynamic styling” and she chases and barks at the neighborhood cats, or the grass if no cats are around.

Mooch however, has gone from being his simple humdrum self to Mr. Lab. Mr. Mooch Lab, K-9 Special Ops. We’ve established that his coat is chocolate, so it goes without saying that in the black of night, he’s no where to be found. But even during the daylight hours, the dog pulls off some amazing “stealth” ability. Mooch walks the perimeter of the house, never the middle of the yard. That would give away his position. Instead of just walking on the outside of the bushes, he weaves his way in and out of them. Presumably to throw off anyone following him.

Much to my dismay, we must also be at war with whatever “threat” is out there, because he and Belle have dug trenches to hunker down in when weaving through the bushes just isn’t enough. I keep filling them in and he keeps digging them out.

All I can picture in my head during working hours is him and Belle in some sort of covert ops meetings during the day, running CAT scans on my computer while I’m at work.