I’m sorry if you’re having a bad day. I have a little story here to help you crack a smile.
My family got two pretty cool Christmas gifts. One is the cutest puppy in the world, Scout the Beagle. The other gift is one of those robot vacuum cleaners that I’ve affectionately named Zelda. We are enjoying both of these gifts, but on some days, they do not mix. As a matter of fact, I had a bad day a few weeks ago because these two gifts had an unfortunate run-in.
Now, Scout the Beagle is adorable. She will cuddle up on your lap and play fetch with the kids and chase her tail. She lays in front of the fireplace and pants out the window of the car. And we all say, “Awww!”
However, Scout the Beagle believes she is too good for potty training. She turns up her nose at ridiculous notions such as going potty outside. It is a good thing she is so cute.
On the aforementioned bad day, unbeknownst to me, puppy left a pile of #2 on the dining room floor.
At her set time, Zelda the vacuum cleaner begins her daily cleaning of the dirt, hair, Cheerios, crumbs, Legos, etc. (Thanks, Zelda. I love you with an unnatural affection.)
I was upstairs when my youngest yells up to me, “Mom, it smells down here!” Sadly, I did not pay much attention to her because that girl has the most sensitive nose known to mankind. If her brother breathes within a four foot radius of her, she complains of the horrible stench. Walking through the cleaning aisle at the grocery store puts her into a tailspin. So yeah, not paying too much attention to complaining of smells is my M.O.
But fifteen minutes later, I did come down the stairs to find that her complaining of the bad odor, for the first time in her life, was not a false alarm. Zelda the vacuum had, in fact, smeared puppy poo all over the dining room in a lovely criss-cross pattern.
So begins the bad day which included all the following steps: barring anyone and everyone from an entire room of our house. Putting the puppy in the backyard indefinitely. Bleaching the dining room floor. And worst of all, getting a screwdriver and taking apart Zelda the vacuum and cleaning her with a cotton swab.
I had better things to do, way better things to do. But I did not get to do them on that bad day.
So all this to say, if you’re smiling right now at my misfortune, maybe things aren’t really all that bad. Maybe some cuddles or some tea or some “I’m sorry” or some time with another momma may be in order.
And at least you’re not cleaning up dog poo with a Q-tip. Can I get an amen?
Need some more ways to brighten up your day? Check out Martha’s hilarious story of her son’s third eye.
Originally published February 2017.
The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.
