Monday Report -- July 16

Sadly, I won't be able to write a rant about Monday this week. It wasn't so bad. There were, however, two points of interest worth sharing and I need 500 more points for my $50 Borders card so I'll write a non-rant. One event is spooky; the other is funny as long as you weren't me.

I slept late and stumbled into the kitchen to get my morning coffee. The back door was standing wide open. There is no way my husband left for work with that door open but I don't spook easily. I call the dog to go do his business outside. He always waits for me to get up to go out. He does not go out in the morning when my husband is up and home, which is another reason that door should not have been open. The dog sits there in front of the door and refuses to go outside. I try to drag him out the door because we have to leave later and I need him to go potty before we do. I can't drag him. He's a big, strong dog and if he doesn't want to do something, he isn't going to do it. Fine; I go check my email, drink my coffee, etc. I try again to take the dog out. This time I go outside and call him to me. He won't come. He just sits right inside the door growling. I give up and we leave on our errands. I try to get the dog to go out again when we return and he still won't go. At least he hadn't messed in the house. Fast forward to dinner...

My husband cooked dinner last night. We were about halfway through eating when Ramone, one of my largest cats, jumped up on the table. The cats should know better than to jump up on the table while we are eating but like the dog, they will do what they please. My husband begins to yell at Ramone, waving his arms around. This causes Ramone to run across the table, stepping on my plate and flipping it into the air which makes my husband yell louder and wave his arms more wildly. This, of course, causes Ramone to keep running taking out my son's plate as well. This all happened within the space of a few seconds. We are left sitting there with mixed vegatable strewn across the table and floor. The dog won't clean this up since he doesn't eat vegetables. The macaroni and cheese did not fly off the plates but I found a cat hair in mine so I couldn't eat any more of it. The fried chicken landed on the clean table and was probably fine to eat but my son refused to touch it saying, "It's dirty! Do you want me to be poisoned?" So dinner went the way things go on Monday at my house. I was laughing too hard to be mad.

The good news is that finally, after dinner, the dog went out potty.