Friday, May 27, 2011

Ew. Ew. Ew. What An Exciting Life

Is it sad that I am super excited that my landlord told me he has graduation parties all weekend and won't be able to come mow my lawn? My landlord is a relatively nice man, enjoyable even. I like him.
But, everyone who has ever rented a property ever in their lives knows that there is a certain level of anxiety that comes with knowing your landlord is coming to your house. My landlord mows for me, for a small fee, and I have found he can come anywhere from once every 3 days to once every 7 days. He's busy, so he can't really say for sure when he will be here. Which is why I also like it when it's raining, because I feel like I can relax.
I'm not hiding a meth lab or anything. I'm just messy, and I forget to pick up all the dog poop, or I'm not wearing a bra and my curtains are open. He's seen me looking pretty rough.
He also works with my Dad, and they are friends. So I know that if something is too out of the ordinary here I will hear it from my pops as well. So, I'm on edge often. Right around 3:30 every day when they get off work, until it gets to be too late for mowing. lol. It's pathetic really.
I should be medicated. More.

**Fair Warning: The rest of this post is kind of gross, and sort of long. But it's very funny, and it has pictures, and not of anything gross, and everybody loves pictures!**

Today I am doing more cleaning. Mostly dog vomit, because Hank is having allergy issues, apparently. Yesterday the lawn was mowed, and he always pants himself sick when the grass is mowed because he is apparently very allergic to cut grass. I feel for him because I have terrible allergies also, but I don't puke on the floor. He's also very nervous about where Zack has been and isn't getting a lot of sleep since he is constantly looking for him. I feel ya, Hank.
As you can see, not only is my life very exciting, it's also immensely glamorous.
Yesterday I had to pick up all the dog poop, which I hadn't done in several days. It was horrifying and I couldn't help but laugh thinking about Zack.

Zack hates dog poop. He has serious dog poop fear. Child hood trauma or something. He's a big baby.
When he first moved in with me, and he and my Dad turned into bff's my Dad started addressing Zack concerning all matters of lawn and Dog care. This included Hank poop.
Even though I offered multiple times to continue picking up the poop, or paying someone else to do it, he insisted that it was his responsibility. Per my Dad.
The first day he went out to pick it up he insisted I stand on the front porch and talk to him while he did it, to distract him.
It was hilarious.
Every once in a while he would smell something and gag and gag and gag. Then get so mad at me for cracking up. It was hilarious.
The icing on the cake was when Hank, casually walked up right beside him and made more of a mess for him to pick up. I think Hank was laughing too.
I knew that day, watching Zack pick up Hank mess and gag, all the while covered in Hank's hair, that he was my soul mate. If he could be with me and love Hank and rarely complain about owning the sweetest, sheddiest dog in the world, and pick up after him, he must really love us. And he does. So much.

But, Hank is one thing, and other peoples dogs are another.
When Zack and I drove to Florida before he left for Bahrain, we drove because my Grandma needed to get her dogs and car back there so she could spend some time in the house she has there.

Scooter, My grandma's yorkie, sleeping on Zacks shoulder.

Patsy, My Grandma's Wheaton Terrier, laying on my Grandma's stuff while we drove.

We loved driving down there. 25 hours, and all. Because Zack and I love to spend time together. But honestly, while we loved it and got to see lots of cool things, and make memories we will never forget, our trip started off pretty shitty. Literally.
We stopped every once in a while to eat and let the dogs out, or if we saw signs for something cool Zack we wanted to see.

Giant Superman statue in Metropolis, for example =]

It was super fun, and the dogs were pretty well behaved that first day.
Except for the incident at Sonic. Patsy was barking herself into a heart attack because 2 motorcycles drove up. Patsy loves motorcycles because she associates them with my Dad, who she loves more than life. Even after allowing Patsy to talk to the very nice bikers to show her they were not in fact my father, she continued to bark and completely freak out.
I decided to put her in the car since no one could order their food over her obnoxious barking.
I put her in the car, which the bikers parked right next to, and walked back to the table to grab my food and the bowl of water we had for the dogs, and then walked right back to the car to sit in there and eat with her while Zack and Scooter finished at the tables outside.
By the time I got back to the car, where I could hear Patsy barking and freaking out at the bikes still, she had lost her shit. Literally. Barked until she pooped right in the front seat. In less than a minutes time. Less than 30 seconds probably.
Zack was horrified.
He didn't even see it! For the rest of the day he talked about how disgusting it was that I picked it up with a napkin and put it in a fast food cup and threw it away. He was horrified. And it didn't even make the car stink.

That night we stopped in Tennessee and spent the night at a pet-friendly hotel.
Patsy and Scooter looking out the window at the hotel

That morning we woke up and Zack went down to smoke and get some breakfast. When he came back, he was excited, and said that this hotel had terrible breakfast but was extremely pet friendly, and that he met someone downstairs who had kept 3 llamas in their room the night before and they were outside now. I had to go see them, so we spent about an hour walking the dogs outside and seeing the llamas. Plenty of time for them to do their business before we got on the road, we thought. 
 I know it's a terrible picture of the llamas, but we couldn't get too close, we didn't want to scare them.

We got on the road as soon as we were done walking the dogs, and totally forgot our drinks in the hotel room. Zack started complaining that he was dying of thirst after about 3 minutes. So we pulled off when we saw a sign that said last exit 50 miles and let the dogs out at dunkin donuts, and got some Tennessee sweet tea that we were pretty excited about. So, basically that morning the dogs had been in the car for abour 15 minutes so far.
We were back on the road, and I wasn't stopping until someone was begging me. I'm sort of a male like that. It was early, Zack would fall asleep, as would the dogs, and I would drive until they woke up. 
I had JUST set the cruise control when Zack started saying "I think Scooter is squatting, I think he's gonna go to the bathroom!". I was laughing because he is so paranoid and told him we had just had him out, it wasn't possible he still had to go. Then Zack started to scream "Scooter stop! Stop! Scooter! Molly, pull over!!" He was indeed pooping on all of grandma's stuff we were taking cross country for her. And as Zack screamed Scooter walked and dragged it across the rest of the stuff.  
Zack started gagging, I started cracking up. I have worked at daycares, and I volunteer at the animal shelter, and foster puppy mill dogs, poop is not nearly as horrifying to me.
We had just passed the sign that said we had 50 miles to go til there was anything that could be done about it. We had also just cleaned out the car and threw away all the napkins, there was nothing to clean it up with.
I was dying laughing. It smelled... unfavorable. Zack was trying to roll down the window, and Patsy immediately started trying to jump out. It was unbelievably funny. The window was rolled down one inch and Zack's entire face was sticking out of it screaming at me how we needed to pull over to the side of the (very busy dangerous) road THAT MINUTE. I was trying to explain that there was nothing we could do and we would just have to tough it out for 48 more miles. I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard.
He made me clean all of it up when we finally got pulled over. It was also all over Scooter, and he wouldn't even hold him while I sprayed him with water out of a bottle I borrowed from the gas station that said "toxic",  and wiped his tiny furry butt off. He gagged the entire time.

My husband the U.S. Navy Sailor.

Oh, silly Zack. I miss him so much that dog poop reminds me of him.
What an exciting, and glamourous life.
I couldn't be happier to live the rest of it with my sweet Hubs.

I know that was a really long and gross post lol... but whatev. I thought it was hilarious and Zack will laugh when he reads it =] Sorry if we grossed you out!

Love you!

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