It has been an incredibly brutal 4 weeks. Yesterday was particularly brutal in that I didn’t get home until 4:30. The kids had been alone since 6:30 that morning, when The Crabby Man left for work.
Here’s how it went down: I was up at 4:30 a.m to feed the kids and make sure they had their play time before they were separated (if THAT isn’t love, I don’t know what is!).
As I was grabbing the last of my personal effects for the work day, Slugger decided he absolutely HAD TO get up on the people bed. But we are dealing with Slugger here, so I had to pick him up to put him on said bed.
When I got home late that afternoon, I let loose the Livingroom Dogs to the back yard and sprinted to release the Bedroom Dogs.
Because I was apologizing profusely, and getting a little worried about the look in the still-on-a-diet eyes of Vito when he saw Morty, I didn’t actually do a head count when I released the hounds. Instead, I thought it better to get the kids fed ASAP.
I sprinted back to the kitchen to start filling dinner bowls when I heard this pitiful, soprano “Rooo Rooo!” coming from the bedroom. Turns out, the pitiful noises were being emitted by Slugger, still on the people bed.
When I left for work, Crabby was in the shower. I *assumed*, since we are both aware of Slugger’s mental handicaps, that Crabby would have restored Slugger to ground level before he left for work. That was not the case.
For 10 hours, Slugger was unable to play with the Bedroom Dogs – the little ones, Sarah and Maude, none of whom can jump up on the bed. If that wasn’t bad enough, Slugger was unable to do the “Howdy Mommy!” Dance, which he so very much loves, especially on a day when Mommy was gone 2 hours longer than usual, and the “Howdy Mommy!” Dance was much more animated than usual. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t see his soul mutt, Morty, Morty being one of the Livingroom Dogs. And if that wasn’t had enough, Slugger could hear the kibble hitting the bowls, eating being one of his most favorite past times, and he could do nothing. All because he was trapped on the people bed.
Here’s the thing:
1. Slugger can jump on or off the couch, OK, so it’s lower than the people bed, but still.
2. Slugger can jump in and out of the Ranger, again, lower than the people bed.
3. Slugger can jump into and out of the truck bed of the Ranger, which is higher than the people bed. (Fear not! None of the kids are allowed to ride in the truck beds unless they are leashed and a human is riding with them!)
4. Slugger can jump in and out of the back of the Waggin’ Wagon, higher than the people bed.
5. Slugger can jump in and out of my work truck, higher than the people bed.
6. At the beloved Half Pipes, Slugger can jump up onto walls higher than the people bed and can, with equal ease, jump off of them.
But he can not jump onto, or more importantly, off of, the people bed.
If the Zombie Apocalypse started yesterday, Slugger would have been easy pickings because, despite the fact he has demonstrated time and time again that he can jump to and from higher locations, he absolutely, positively, can not jump off the people bed. Then again, if the Zombie Apocalypse did start yesterday, even a brain-dead, flesh-eating Zombie would have fallen in love with Slugger, and I don’t mean in a nutritional sence.
I have been spending more time playing with the kids than videoing them lately, so I am recycling an on point video.