Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Papa = Jack. Ass.

I think it's fair to say that we're all tired at the Bradstein household. Tired of waiting and tired of the heat. Even though I'm more fond of warm weather, and even though Mama and her Mama have been taking daily trips to cool off in the pool, it's draining.

Even Barky is probably tired from the constant activity and the heat. He's knows that something is different, with Mama's Mama visiting and Mama working from home all of these days. This is probably stressful for him since he's not fond of changes. Barky also knows that we're all a bit strung out, which doesn't calm him down, since his moods often follow ours, from excitement to exhaustion.

It wasn't that surprising, then, that when Mama's friend came over a few days ago with her two-year-old daughter, that Barky did this to the bunny that he previously chewed the ears off of

Part of this was, I'm sure, showing off, but part of it was probably blowing off nervous energy. In spite of his extra energy, however, Mama reports that he was great with the little girl, not even noticing when she pet him while he was gnawing on a rawhide.

What was surprising, however, was what Barky did when Mama and her Mama went out briefly yesterday:

  • took Mama's raincoat out of the closet and chewed the bottom of it off
  • ate the rest of the rabbit, including stuffing
  • barfed the rest of the rabbit, including the stuffing, out on our bedroom carpet (Mama took pictures of that too. . .aren't you glad I spared you those?)
  • tore up a bunch of his poop bags
When we took him out, he grazed on grass like a starving cow, barfing once. We're keeping an eye on him today, to ensure there's no blockage, but as of this morning, bunny parts seem to be passing through without much delay. (Hey, if you don't like poop stories, you'd better stop reading now; there are sure to be more to come after 3B gets here.)

So it was a stressful day yesterday. We're worried that we're going to go back to the crazy dog days--although we'll keep an eye on him over the next few days; it could be that something out of our control set him off. I was pretty wound up and worn out from trying to work while staying in touch with Mama and shopping for a new car. . .and monitoring the Tour de Fwonce.

Have I mentioned that Mr. Hondas are weasels for the most part? Yes, even the internet Mr. Hondas who write things like, "I can't go lower than that price if you're going to buy another manufacturer's car, but if another dealer of my manufacturer has a lower price, I can lower my price."

OK, jackass. That makes sense how? You're going to lose the sale either way. Jack. Ass.

What better way to end a day like that than to watch the end of the Tour stage then join Mama in slumberville? As I did started to drift off, I finally remembered to ask her if she'd seen her iPod recently. We want to take it to the hospital with us, but I hadn't seen it recently. I figured that she already packed it in our hospital bags, which are already in the car, but I'm one of those irritating guys who likes to pack two days before a trip, just to be sure.

Mama was still half awake, so I rolled over and asked if she knew where her iPod was, figuring she would say, "Sure. It's in the car." Instead, she broke down, sobbing. Way to go, Papa, making Mama feel even more tired and stressed.

Poor Mama was instantly stressed out because, as she said between sobs, she
  • had no idea where it was
  • thought that maybe we left it in the manzanita--which is on its way to becoming Sapporo beer cans
  • knew she couldn't sleep until she found it
  • was too tired--exhausted--to look for it at that hour
No worries, I said, swinging into my sterotypical male problem solving mode, getting dressed again to go down to the car and find it. That made her cry harder. Way to go, Papa, making Mama feel even worse.

Mama was too tired to do anything and just wanted to sleep, but she didn't want me to leave, because then she would worry more about the lost iPod. So I got back into bed. But now my mind was spinning, thinking that I should solve the problem (go to the car, Papa), but that it's more important for Mama to feel good and get some rest (stay with Mama, Papa).

Eventually, however, I fell back asleep, only to be awoken by Mama, crawling back into bed, whispering, "I found the iPod. It was in my bag." To which I mumbled, "Great. Good news." then rolled over and continued sleeping. Way to go, Papa, falling asleep on the job. Who's the jackass now?

I'm not sure who felt worse this morning--Barfy the rabbit eater or his sleep-deprived parents. Even though I felt smarter for not having eaten a pound of cotton fluff yesterday, the inside of my mouth felt as though I had. Although I didn't hork on the lawn.


  1. Oh this sounds like our house these days. Gotta love those pregnancy hormones. Last night we had something similar when I realized right before bed I had no clothes that would be cool enough to wear to work tomorrow. ZD was like oh I'll stay up to switch a load into the dryer. Of course then I felt guilty that he would stay up for me. It really is a no win situation with a pregnant wife so don't worry.

  2. Anonymous4:39 PM

    Ditto what dear wife said. As we all know, pregnancy makes women more emotional and men dumber.

    By the way, I'm convinced dogs are the best predictors of a woman's due date. MetroDog started going nuts the night that my wife went into labor. It was like he could smell the impending arrival of his non-canine sibling!

  3. "Barfy the rabbit eater" - love it!

    I'm glad the destruction wasn't worse though, and that he hasn't had to take a trip to the vet. That would be an extra unexpected expense that you don't need! (That was three words in a row with an "x" in them somewhere!)

    Don't worry - the wait will be over soon! (Oh and let me know if you want me to dognap Barfy or just visit him...)

  4. You feel like a bad Papa now, just wait until Mama is in labor...remember that Bill Cosby routine: "YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

  5. Good lord! What a mess over there!


    And yeah, your wallpaper beat mine.

  6. Hang in there!

    When I was PG, I bawled my eyes out because my hubby didnt change the TV station fast enough when a commercial for the Girls Gone Wild DVD came on TV. Within 30 seconds, I went from the sweet little wife carrying his baby, to the screaming & crying maniac, who yelled "You want to have sex with all those girls!", ran into the bathroom & slammed the door.
    I was *NUTS* when I was PG.

    It'll aaaalllllll be over soon, and then the real fun begins!