I thought I'd try one of those Trite posts that all those weblog connoisseurs hate, but are compelled to read because they can't admit that there is a curiosity to look in on other people's lives to see what is going on, an almost voyeuristic tendencyas a friend would.
In any event, I was stopped at an intersection in town here. We live in a small town where developers scrape acres of land clean and put up 3,500 square foot houses with five-car garages. This morning, I glanced over at the city-logo'ed pick-up truck that pulled up in the left-turn lane just outside my window. Printed on the door of the truck just below the great seal of the city was "Department of Forestry."
When I used to call to complain about the rape of the land at a time when the city was lush with trees and greenery, I'd be connected with the "tree lady." Now, she's the Director of the Department of Forestry.
And I got an e-mail from the Venerable Shih Ying-Fa. Among other things going on at Cloudwater Zendo, he will be teaching an eight-week basics of Buddhism class. Here is part of that announcement:
It will cover the teachings which are at the core of our tradition and will also look at the history and evolution of Buddhism from ancient India to modern times. The text for the class will be "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Understanding Buddhism" by Gary Gach.
When I got back home this morning, the boy was still asleep. It wasn't so late in the morning that it was unreasonable that he would still be sleeping. I noticed an odor. You have to understand that the puppy is house-trained. How do I know this? Because she yelps when she needs to go outside. And then at 3 and 5:30 in the morning, I let her outside.
So, the boy was the only one at home this morning. And I deduced that the following occurred. The dog yelped. And yelped and yelped and yelped, but could not arouse the sleeping teenaged boy, who was the only human available to open the door. And after yelping until hoarse and after deciding that her bowels were at the bursting point, she decided that she would have to poop somewhere in the house.
Of course, there was evidence to support this scenario. The sleeping boy. The pile of poop in the bedroom farthest from the door. Now, the question would, of course, come up: But how do you know it's new poop from this morning and not from last night?
And the answer is: It is from this morning -- I know that because it wasn't hard and so it gets on your fingers if you accidentally touch it while trying to pick it up with the toilet tissue. Then you say, "Eeeeeeeeewwwwwww, shit!" And scrub your hands vigorously with ampicillin you empty from the dog's blue-and-gray capsules mixed with water and anti-bacterial soap.
Any questions?
Posted by Bill at September 3, 2003 01:19 PMthe poop thing -- tmi.
Posted by: stacey at September 3, 2003 01:25 PMCould you not have moved it beside the bed so "the boy" could have stepped in it when he decided to get out of bed? Maybe he was pooped and that is shit when you are so young and should have endless energy. Thanks Bill for reminding me why I should NOT have a pet.
Posted by: Michelle at September 3, 2003 03:00 PMyou need a pet, you don't need a teenaged son :-)
Posted by: jenB at September 3, 2003 03:29 PMhehehe.
Posted by: stacey at September 3, 2003 04:18 PMwould a doggie door be totally out of the question? I feel for the poor animal - the dog obviously did the best possible in an untenable situation. Make the boy clean it up. Sleep is fine, but we all have responsibilities in this world.
Posted by: dan at September 3, 2003 05:16 PMyou are all soooo right. we tried to sell jax on e-bay today. no bites. so we cut off the tip of his right pinky finger. he is very sorry. if it happens again, we move up a knuckle.
just kidding. really we just forced him to sit and read our blog for two hours. i'm not sure that was a good idea, because now he's even sleepier.
Posted by: stacey at September 3, 2003 08:16 PMHow do you wake them up?
Posted by: Anji at September 4, 2003 05:41 AMewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Posted by: kathy at September 4, 2003 11:28 AMANJI: bill favors the grab-one-end-of-the-bunk-bed-pick-it-up-an inch-or-so-drop-it-hard method. that or glasses of ice water. sometimes it works, sometimes not. i like the obviously-you-can't-handle-the-late-nights-so-you're-not-going-out-tonight-method. seems to work a little better. that and guilt. i told him he let the puppy down. puppies WANT to be good, she needed you, and you LET HER DOWN. all she wants to do is LOVE YOU and be GOOD. sniff.
ahh. a mother's best weapon. guilt.
Posted by: stacey at September 4, 2003 11:42 AM