My wife and youngest daughter have left for a three day trip to camp. I have been left at home with my youngest son, middle daughter, a puppy and a geriatric dog (14 years old). Our son did not even come home yesterday after work, so he is likely to be no help today. Our daughter does assist, but tends to sleep during day and stay awake all night. I think she may be struggling with a light case of vampirism. The dogs are nothing but trouble. Here’s how my first few hours alone went. Spoiler alert … NOT WELL!
5AM – Am woken by puppy whining. Get up to take puppy out in rain.
5:05AM – Lay on couch to get more shuteye while puppy spoons me and occasionally bites and scratches herself just enough to keep me semi-awake.
6:20AM – Youngest daughter comes downstairs to inform me that our geriatric dog had vomited bile up on our bed.
6:30AM – Geriatric dog gets put outside in rain to pee/poop/vomit more while I strip the bed and load up the washer for the first time today.
6:45AM – Notice a second story clogged downspout with water overflowing our gutters like a waterfall, so I use my giant metal reaching utensil to clean out the downspout in the rain and lightning.
7AM – Get daughter fed and early morning business emails addressed.
7:30AM – While waiting to take my wife and daughter to school to catch the bus to camp, I clean out some of the remaining downspouts using my long, rigid utensil. I think I may have the beginnings of a slutty romance novel here. Working title … Thunderlust.
7:45AM – Load up the car and drive my wife and daughter to school where we are met with automobile and bus chaos. We find a place to pull over and I mistakenly hit the gas instead of the brake. Accident averted. Whew! My mind is fried already and they are not even gone yet.
8AM – Return home and address more business emails from Mauritius and Peru. You will score 10 points if you can tell me where Mauritius is without Googling.
8:05AM – Notice our geriatric dog is refusing to eat. Get the puppy’s food ready.
8:15AM – Feed the dogs. Puppy will eat anything, edible or inedible. Geriatric dog still refuses to eat until I put a dash of canned pumpkin on top that we use to stop the puppy’s diarrhea that results when she eats something she should not which is anything and everything all day long.
8:20AM – Puppy finishes first. Uh-oh, that’s bad. She and I race to the geriatric dog’s food dish and unfortunately it is a virtual tie. Dog kibble flies all over as we collide at the dish. Clean up ensues and geriatric dog eats remaining food in solitary confinement for his own protection.
8:40AM – Personal hygiene stuff … none of your damn business!
9AM – Back to work. Middle daughter comes down and tells me that she was going to use the treadmill to run, but someone pooped there. Not me, despite my 8:40AM personal hygiene note. Looks like the geriatric dog struck again. Although that carpet is leaving shortly, I decide to clean up the poop anyway. I am comfortable that is the right call.
9:10AM – Move load from washer to dryer and new load in washer.
9:15AM – More business emails.
9:40AM – I feel the need to chronicle my activities that you are reading now or risk sliding into insanity within the first 2 hours of my wife leaving.
9:50AM – Dogs are napping. I am calm. I set the half-empty wine bottle aside and dive back into work. Life is good. At least I’m not going to camp to be a chaperone for 4th & 5th graders.
10AM – I arrange to wire 10,000 euros to a vendor in Germany. My anxiety level rises in direct proportion to my bank balance declining. Now where did I put that wine bottle?