I'm back! And I spent a portion of last weekend trying to take a nice picture of Peewee's tail. Want to see?
It's adorable, I know. And its health is, for the moment, attributable to tireless applications of Malaseb Pledgets. But guess who quickly found a way to utterly misuse veterinary antiseptic wipes? Me, that's who!
Sunday night Jackson was all, My butt itches! And he bent over and gave me the full goatse, thank you very much, Google it if you can't imagine what I'm talking about from the context. So I said, Hm! I have an idea! And I ran to the kitchen! Because why wouldn't you wipe your kid's ass with the same thing you use on your dog? I don't know. I mean, now I do, but I didn't at the time, I thought Pledgets were the veterinary equivalent of soothing Tucks medicated pads.
You don't know how many mistakes you have left as a parent until you witlessly apply something that you think will be healing to a very tender part of your child's anatomy, only to have said child run away screaming "IT BURNS! IT BURNS!"
Me: "I'm so sorry, Jackson, I would never had touched you with that if I'd known it would hurt you."
Jackson: "THE BURNING!"
Me: "I didn't think it would hurt, Peewee never cries when I clean him with one."
Jackson: "That's because he's a DOG! DOGS CAN'T SPEAK, MOM!"
It's actually kind of important to apologize to your child once in awhile, though I don't go out of my way looking for ways to maim him just so we can have make-up snuggle time. Anyway, it took some persuasion but he finally allowed me to come close enough to spread a little bit of Boudreaux's Butt Cream on the affected area and the burning soon stopped. But it will probably take a few months for his Protective Posterior Suspicion Level to fall back within normal limits.
Here are a few photos from the last few weeks that had been languishing in my camera.
Peanut butter cookies I made at my mom's house before I left. There's nothing I really want from her house when she's gone except those Bake King cookie sheets.
First day of spring break. We had some grand plans to go down to the tar pits and to the Getty, but instead we went to Borders and bowling. It's never too late to start lowering your child's expectations.
We went to the beach once, though.
Last time we went the sand kind of freaked Peewee out.
But he found his groove this time.
Hey, and I finally finished Jack's pirate hat! In Raiders' colors, naturally.
Uh, let's see. Then the sun came out and our neighbors threw a party! You never know what you're going to get when you hand your camera to a six-year-old.
It was a lovely party but I have limited personal strength for prolonged socialization without alcohol, so I went inside for a little restorative nonverbal communication.
This is where Peewee had an epiphany.
Here's where I found Peanut this morning.
Did I tell you that Jack and I went up to the Chumash
ashtray casino to see Chris Rock a few weeks ago? Jack bought himself this souvenir sweatshirt and he bought me a t-shirt that says, "If you haven't contemplated murder, you ain't been in love." I think that sums up our relationship quite nicely.