BAD DOG BAXTER

My dog Baxter is so cute. 

You'd never guess he is the devil.  A few weeks ago he got up on the kitchen counter and ate a stick of butter.  He puked all over the living room rug, at 10 p.m. that night when I was just snuggling down to bed.  I had to get up, clean it up, and it still stank in the morning.  It took us 10 days to get the smell out of the rug.

Did I mention he is a small dog?  Like 16 pounds!  How does he get up on the counter? 

I ran out this afternoon to take the boys' marching band uniforms over to the school in preparation for the big game tonight.  The football team is undefeated!  Go RiverDell! 

When I got back, I saw this.

I thought, uh oh.  Baxter got up here on the stove and nibbled on a homemade banana muffin that I had made yesterday.  Oh well, he didn't eat it all.  I guess he didn't like it.

Then I saw this.

That's the muffin tin upside down.  Oh, yes he did!  He ate the whole tray, wrappers and all.  There were probably eight muffins in there.

The muffins had chocolate chips in them, so I called the vet.  Dogs aren't supposed to eat chocolate.  They're not supposed to get up on kitchen counters and eat the homemade muffins you had planned for your family to enjoy, either.   

The vet said I had to make him vomit by giving him hydrogen peroxide.

Luckily, I had an old bottle upstairs.   I tried pouring a few tablespoons down his throat in the backyard, and he kept spitting it out.  Also, he kept getting distracted by a dead mouse belly up in the middle of the patio.

I had seen that mouse this morning, while I was enjoying my first cup of coffee.  I had planned to pick him up later in the day, when the mood to remove dead rodents struck me, but I got delayed by having to make my dog throw up.  And how is your day going?

I got some newspaper and a plastic bag and threw the mouse in the trash.   Baxter went nuts sniffing the patio where the departed mouse had lain.  But there was no time to mourn Lil' Squeaky's passing - it was time to get back to the puking.

I called my neighbor over and she and her daughters held Baxter down while I squirted the peroxide  down this gullet.  He still didn't throw up.

Finally, I put him in the car to take him to the vet.  He puked in the car right away!  Whaddagooddoggy!  It wasn't much, but I called the vet and she said that would be OK.  She said he might even throw up some more.  Hm.  Something to look forward to.

So I drove him all over the neighborhood for 20 minutes, taking lots of twisty turns, trying to get more out of him.  He didn't puke, but I got a little dizzy.

He still doesn't look too good ... little droopy in the eyes.

I guess I'd feel a little droopy, too, if I ate 8 banana muffins with chocolate chips and then drank 4 tablespoons of hydrogen peroxide.

I'd tell Santa to bring him coal in his stocking, but he'd probably just eat that, too.

THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING

It's the day after Thanksgiving.  My husband is sheetrocking in the kitchen.

Looks good, huh?  And the ceiling's not bad either.

We're not the Black Friday types.  We're the "do we have to go anywhere today?" types.

The kids have been watching TV all day.  One is still in their pajamas and it's 4 p.m. right now.

They don't want to be in my blog.  "Mom!!  Don't put us in your blog!" 

Teenagers.  I told them to cover their faces.

Since I only had seconds on everything yesterday, including, but not limited to, buckets of appetizers, Turnip Gratin with Gruyere cheese from The Pioneer Woman.com, and two giant helpings of homemade raspberry cheesecake, I decided to treat myself--

to a chocolate shake from McDonald's.  Yes, I did have the whipped cream with it.  Thanks for asking.

And, because it's New Jersey, I did what all New Jerseyans do on the day after Thanksgiving ...

 

I started putting up some outdoor Christmas decorations.

I just know it'll look better at night.

HURRICANE SANDY

I haven't posted anything because of Hurricane Sandy.  We didn't have any major damage, but we did lose power for a week, and the kids lost a week of school, and somehow that has become an excuse for my whole life and schedule to go to hell in a hand basket.

The Sunday Sandy hit, I did some grocery shopping.  Good thing I didn't need bread.

We lost power Monday.  The house wasn't that cold yet, but my son bundled up anyway. 

Power outages are boring.  Sleep is a good option.

We hadn't been able to get a generator before the storm.  The house got cold. After about three days, because the kids couldn't go to school, and my husband and I couldn't work, we checked into a hotel.  My husband had made the reservation a week before, so we had a room.

I love him.

We had figured since we didn't spend money on a generator, we could afford a short stay in a hotel.  We spent two days there, and it was wonderful.  They had power, and a gym, and an indoor pool, and TV.  We tried to make it a vacation  - knowing that we would be going back to a cold, dark house.

Then, on second day, we got a text from a neighbor saying our power had come back on!  We would be going home to a warm house!

Before checking out, we went down to breakfast.  My husband stayed upstairs to pack, and I took the boys down to eat.  I tried to talk to the boys about how grateful we should be to have power when so many people were suffering.  They agreed, sort of, and then started teasing each other, and then got rambunctious, and then the older one threw pepper in his brother's face, which got in his eyes.  He started coughing, sneezing, and trying to rinse his eyes.   I yelled at the older one, and called him an idiot nice and loudly.  People stared. 

I cleaned up our table, and noticed this sign.

Perfect.