YES, I AM A DOCTOR. I HAVE A WEBMD DEGREE
Husband is still sick. The other night I found him sitting up in the chair in the corner of our bedroom at 5am moaning because his head hurt. When I asked if he needed anything, he grunted at me and shuffled back to bed. He’s like dying sick. Unless it’s time to go out and do something outside of the house. Then he’s fine.
He’d probably be fine inside the house too – if it weren’t for the million and one projects he has to do to get the house finished.
WALK OF SHAME
Sad to say this but TTD was bit by that dog, Fido, in the dog park. We didn’t notice at first because we body checked her and it was a nip on her ear. We didn’t notice until the puss started oozing. We felt horrible, very, very bad parents. We did our best to clean the wound but, like we’re not Doctors, we are also not Veterinarians. And both of us get pretty grossed out by goo. TTD was not impressed by our bedside manner of yelling at each other to do the cleaning.
Pretty bad parenting, right? It gets worse.
Husband took TTD to the Black Vet (see footnote) for a look at the wound. They were escorted into a room to wait. When Black Vet came in, TTD barked. Apparently that was the cue for all the other staff to pile into the room and, while black vet held her by the scruff, TAPE HER MOUTH SHUT! Husband was so taken aback; words didn’t come out of his mouth though he had lots running through his mind –none of them nice. One shot in TTD’s rear and $100+ later, husband and TTD were out of there never to return. Seriously, never! What the F did they think TTD was – a crocodile? We’re going to try another vet tomorrow to see if we can find the lovely friendly experience we had at Adobe Animal Hospital where they made us all feel special and loved.
FOOTNOTE: When we first moved in to our house in Nashville, the older white woman neighbor across the street told us if we needed need a vet to try hers. "He's a Black Vet." she said very nicely, looking right at me, to let me know she wasn't racist. Sadly, being Black does not make a good vet. I should know. I don't have a WebMD in that.
THE “FILE SYSTEM”
Husband would like everyone to know he is apparently not that messy. He has said it over and over, like the Internet can hear him if he repeats it loud enough. After my post about his “file system” and the little folded receipts that decorate all the table tops in this house, he has started giving me the receipts at the restaurant. He’ll fold them first, in a passive aggressive way, and then toss them at me and tell me it’s my fault now if they are found anywhere in the house. I love him.
STICK BUG VS MY IFFY MORALS
The freaking Stick Bugs must be reading this blog. Or they saw me finally pick their buddy off the windshield and toss him into the yard while squealing. In case it wasn't clear, I was the one squealing. The Stick Bug was dead. He could no long squeal - not that I'm sure he ever could. I don't know jack about Stick Bugs. Other than the fact that they’ve started creeping up to the front door just to let me know that they know what I did. I never see them move, they are just there, closer than they were before. And they’ve told their bug friends. This is what it looked like just outside the door this morning.