September 2016 archive

Back To School Posts? NO THANK-YOU!

For the past few weeks I’ve seen a tonne of back to school posts, ranging in everything from lunch container ideas for kids to ones giving up alcohol and chips for adults. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, I don’t read any of them, and I’ll tell you why!

I’m lucky enough this year to be able to take August off and spend it at the beach with my children. My guys are still young enough to have some carefree summers, but I know that won’t last forever. So for now, and hopefully always, I want to make this weekend last as long as possible.

So instead of back to school shopping, we are going to swim in the lake. Instead of me cutting up sandwiches with cookie cutters and writing love notes, we are going to dig in the sand and make sandcastles, instead of me feeling guilty about having a beer, I’m going to have two. We are going to drag this out until the bittersweet end.

We will head home tomorrow and go back to reality. We will be sun kissed, our bellies full of food and our hearts filled with love. We will crank our “Beach Mix 2016” playlist and sing, windows down and wind in our faces, and crawl into our beds sandy and sleepy.

Tuesday morning we will head off to school, a bit sleepy, but luckily my guys get back into the swing of things without much adjustment time. I won’t pack up a fancy container for lunch in a brand new lunch bag, I’ll send them off with last year’s bag with more of a June lunch than a September one.

Wednesday we will be back to “normal” and in full fall mode, but I will already be plotting how to be off again next summer. At the end of it all, I’m pretty sure my guys are going to remember that night we swam until dark over that time I spent a mortgage payment on Sistema lunch containers.

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A PSA Of Sorts – With Swearing. So Much Swearing.

I took August off this summer to spend a month at the beach with my kids. It’s been wonderful and hot, and it has also been very sandy. After two weeks in paradise I had to be taken a little back to reality, in the form of a mountain of laundry. So, one hot sticky morning I headed off to the local Laundromat to get us some clean beach duds.

As I pulled in, I noticed two big pit bulls tied up to a fence, in the direct blazing sun. I instantly get my pet-loving rage on, but take some deep breaths and think, okay, maybe they’ve only been there for a minute. Relax and mind your own business.

I go in, start my laundry, and keep my eyes on the time. Now it’s 20 minutes. They’ve been there for at LEAST THAT LONG, short leashed to a fence, summer sun beating down on them. I wander outside to check on them. One is muzzled, but he’s managed to get his tongue out, which from a distance I can see is dry, and the other is lying on her side crying. NO WATER. They don’t even have water. My rage is rising faster than the already too hot temperature.

Now IT IS my business. I get my anger in check, walk back into Laundromat, and look around. There are a few different Grannies doing loads of laundry, a young mom, and a guy who looks like Eminem who is shirtless, with his feet up on the counter, refusing to move them for a senior who is trying to get her cart by. He is covered in tattoos, and has the word “MERCY” tatted across his forehead. BINGO.

I march over and say “EXCUSE ME, but are those your dogs over there?”

Well, my rage was met with equal instant rage. This guy starts yelling at me, all up in my face, asking why I’m just judging him by the way he looks, assuming that he’s the owner of pit bulls, because that kind of dog and their owners are always judged, that this is the same as racial profiling. (It isn’t)

I let him rant for a minute or two, then pause. “Yeah, but are they YOUR pit-bulls? To which he answers yes.

I tell him that he needs to get those dogs out of the sun and some water immediately, or I’m going to call the cops. I start to walk back out towards the dogs and he gets in my face again.

“IF YOU GO NEAR THEM, THEY’LL RIP YOUR FUCKING FACE OFF!”

I get back up in his face and say “IF YOU DONT GET THEM OUT OF THE SUN NOW, I’LL RIP YOUR FUCKING FACE OFF.”

He stepped back immediately, I’m going to assume he could see pure fire and rage shooting like lasers out of my eyes, and my skin must have been turning green because I was going to She Hulk Smash THE SHIT OUT OF HIM.

He went out to his dogs and called me a “Dumb C***” and left. I called out after him “TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE.” Zing.

I turn back, a little shaky, but mostly pleased with myself, to see everyone else in the Laundromat giving me dirty looks.

“OH YEAH.” I said. “Like I’M the problem.”

I pack up my clothes and head back. The dirtbag and his dogs are nowhere to be seen, so I hope they found some water, and that maybe he will think twice before doing that again.

Moral of the story is, Animal Cruelty is everyone’s responsibly. Even if the situation gets uncomfortable we need to be advocates for pets in distress.

And if you are a pet owner, please think about what you are doing.

Because you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

She Hulk Smash

She Hulk Smash