Late last summer, our oldest daughter had a Cross Country 12-hour fundraiser at her school. I don’t remember the exact times, but it was something like 10am-10pm, at least one of the kids was running at all times.
She’d remember the specifics, but I think over the course of the 12 hours, they ran roughly 16-18 miles or something way too far like that.
Oh, and the temperature was in the upper 90’s that day too, so it was nice and toasty.
They broke out in groups of 3-5 it seemed and they’d take shifts of 20 minute runs.
So roughly every couple hours, she and her buddies were up.
We dropped her off that morning and told her we’d come that evening when it wasn’t 1,000 degrees to watch one of her turns.
I remember her scheduled time, 7pm.
We were out and about with the other four kids, and about 6pm, we grabbed Chick-Fil-A for dinner.
At 6:30ish, we started making our way to the high school, which is about 17 seconds away without traffic.
As we crossed the intersection, our kids quickly observed the crappy pop-up tent in the bank parking lot with a cardboard sign that read,
“OMG POTTY-TRAINED PUPPIES!!!”
Yeah, we’re those people.
We had time to kill, so after a stern warning and scolding to not ask for a puppy, we pulled in to “just look…”
Before I knew it, I was walking through the drive-through ATM at the bank to get way more cash than I ever intended to pull out that evening.
And we left with a puppy.
One we didn’t know we needed at 6:30.
Again, yeah, we’re those people.
But the kids promised to feed, water, walk, clean up after, potty-train (the cardboard sign lady was a liar), and brush the puppy.
Like my ongoing efforts to do Whole30 again, you can imagine how long their pinky-swears and promises stood firm.
The fun part of having five kids, two cats, a 9-year-old dog, a few fish, some businesses we’re trying to grow, a bunch of activities we’re juggling and now a puppy?
When the laundry room backs up and Lucy decides it’s too cold to poop outside, she’ll let it rip in the middle of that pile of clothes.
Brooke really likes that. 😜
I was having coffee with a client and friend, and a topic from my blog came up.
He said, “you know, I’ve always been a dog guy, not a cat guy. See, dogs poop outside where people can see them. Cats, on the other hand, poop inside and try and cover it up. Your blog is kind of like that, you poop outside and let us all see it.”
Then he said, “you’re welcome to blog that…”
Ha. So I did.
I think I’ll take what he said as a compliment. I guess.
Because for decades, like our puppy Lucy can’t quite figure out, I pooped inside like a cat and covered it up. Hoping no one would see it in the dirty laundry.
Speaking of, in a conversation that changed my life last week that I’ll share at some point, my mom talked about how it was taboo to “air your dirty laundry” in her home growing up.
They were instructed to keep their proverbial dirty laundry inside, not air dry it on the clothesline where the neighbors could catch a whiff of it.
Her home seems like most it seems.
I mean, who wants to expose what really goes on when the garage doors go down and the blinds get drawn…
At night now, I put my hoodie up and walk Lucy around the block.
She still likes the poop inside on the dirty laundry trick on occasion, but she’s starting to poop outside more consistently.
As weird of an analogy as my buddy made, I guess I am too.
It’s still tempting for me to cover it up inside, but it sure seems more freeing for the soul to be a dog guy, not a cat guy.
Even if my neighbors catch a whiff of it.
