Having children

As Jeremy and I approach the age of parenthood (okay, so we have long ago and are really just big kids ourselves), I started to think about motherhood and all it entails. Suddenly, I realized that if I looked back on our pets, I could be in some serious trouble with real children:

2000: We get our first dog, Audrey. I leave a basket of Easter candy (mostly chocolate) on a coffee table thinking, "why would a dog want chocolate?" Audrey eats all the candy. We spend over an hour trying to force feed pepto bismol tablets to Audrey, watching as she continually projects them, at a very high velocity, straight into the air. Audrey has a lot of diarreah.

2001: We get the new housetrained dog Jack. Jack doesn't like us. Jack pees on everything in five minute incruments. We put Jack outside for 1 hour. Jack comes in and pees on the chair. We put Jack outside for two hours. Jack comes in and pees on the magazine rack. We put Jack out. . . You get the picture.

2002: A bottle of Ibproferin is left on the end table. Audrey bites it open and eats it all. I call the vet, and they say I must feed her a mixture of hydrogen peroxide mixed with mustard. I hang up and call the vet back in about 3 minutes. They say, "you got it down her already?" I say, "Yes, I just sat the bowl in front of her." They say, "Oh. You must have a lab." I spend the next two days cleaning up dog vomit.

2003: I go to the grocery store and take my dogs for a ride. As usual, I open the back to load my groceries. Jack suddenly decides he should go for a stroll. Jack is a big dog. Jack's weight opens the automatic doors at the grocery store and in he goes. Everyone else is scared of Jack, so no one will help me catch him, as he makes a bee-line for the meat department. Luckily, I snagged him, but then no one will help me get him back in the car. You try getting a stubborn, 1oo pound dog back in a car by yourself! One end in, other end out, push, push. Nothing. 30 minutes and one large snack later, we all finally go home. No more trips to the grocery store for the dogs!

2004: Audrey eats lipstick. Audrey looks at me with her mouth open. Not so pretty on a dog!

2005: Dogs escape! The worst scenario ever! I spend three days frantically searching for the mutts. Where are they? A couple miles down the road begging to get into someone else's house!

2006-7: Pretty tame so far, ecept for the small tub of plumber's putty Jack ate.

So, basically, as long as a child doesn't remember anything before they are six or seven, I think we should be fine!