Welcome to Mushville, Population: Me
Something has happened to me. I am no longer the loveable hard ass I used to be. I think it is all Charlie’s fault. I practically fall all over myself to take care of this dog. Anything he wants, my heart oozes love, and I make sure he gets it.
At 5am this morning, the little bark followed by the quiet “I think I might have to pee” whine, was, as usual, ignored by my husband and heard instantly by me. Because my husband is off this week, it means he gets up for the dog in the mornings.
I nudge him with my foot. He groans. Then the snoring starts again.
“HEY!” I hiss.
“Whaaaat?”
“Are you going to let Charlie out? I think he has to go.”
“No, he’s fine, he was probably just barking at the cat.”
Now I’m awake as the anger starts to percolate in me. My audible dissatisfaction is not lost on the husband and he gets up to let the dog out. I lie back down. After 5 minutes, I hear nothing and realize that they are both still outside. My husband finally comes back in to announce that Charlie pooped, peed and then barfed EVERYWHERE. When I ask if he is okay, the husband shrugs his shoulders, puts Charlie back in his crate and crawls back in bed. I ask again if the dog is okay, husband grumbles some expletives and then ignores me.
So, I was pretty much awake after that. I was worried about Charlie. So worried that I felt sick myself thinking about all the horrible things that could be wrong with my little baby. I spent the rest of the early morning hours with my head at the end of the bed, straining to hear the dog’s breathing.
He’s fine of course. But I’m not. I have never worried so much about another living thing in my life. God help me when I have children.
At 5am this morning, the little bark followed by the quiet “I think I might have to pee” whine, was, as usual, ignored by my husband and heard instantly by me. Because my husband is off this week, it means he gets up for the dog in the mornings.
I nudge him with my foot. He groans. Then the snoring starts again.
“HEY!” I hiss.
“Whaaaat?”
“Are you going to let Charlie out? I think he has to go.”
“No, he’s fine, he was probably just barking at the cat.”
Now I’m awake as the anger starts to percolate in me. My audible dissatisfaction is not lost on the husband and he gets up to let the dog out. I lie back down. After 5 minutes, I hear nothing and realize that they are both still outside. My husband finally comes back in to announce that Charlie pooped, peed and then barfed EVERYWHERE. When I ask if he is okay, the husband shrugs his shoulders, puts Charlie back in his crate and crawls back in bed. I ask again if the dog is okay, husband grumbles some expletives and then ignores me.
So, I was pretty much awake after that. I was worried about Charlie. So worried that I felt sick myself thinking about all the horrible things that could be wrong with my little baby. I spent the rest of the early morning hours with my head at the end of the bed, straining to hear the dog’s breathing.
He’s fine of course. But I’m not. I have never worried so much about another living thing in my life. God help me when I have children.
posted by vegan mum at 1:26 PM
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