Thursday, January 8, 2009

It's My Birthday, so, Naturally.

I'm telling you it's my birthday because I would like lots of well-wishes and presents. But also because it makes what happens next so much more enjoyable.

So I'm basking in the glow of my birthday morning, made especially fantastic by the fact that I'm turning an even number, when Aikane starts making the tell-tale Dog About To Puke sounds.

We're sitting on the couch, which is on a carpet, so I scoop him up and race toward the kitchen and its ugly, old, eezie-klean linoleum. And here's where it gets foggy. Somehow, I end up stepping in a giant puddle of dog puke. It has chunks that look like ground beef in it, which makes me wonder for a minute where in the world he found ground beef, because we don't tend to leave it lying around on the floor, but he's a resourceful and scheming fellow, so we'll probably never know. And then he pukes down the leg of my pants.

It's at this point that I should tell you that my stomach is so weak that I once doused my baby brother in perfume before I could muster the strength to change his diaper. I'm also a sympathetic vomiter.

So the foot-in-dog-puke and the puke-down-my-leg is far, far too much. I drop the dog, who is still throwing up, and manage to get myself to the kitchen sink just as my dry heaving results in some quality puke of my own.

It's going to be a special, special day.


dana said...

Oh, wow, that's horrifying. Look at it this way: it can only get better from here.

Happy birthday!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Oh my. And to think the hub and I have been discussing obtaining, er, adopting a dog. *shudder* hope your day got better...happy belated bday.