Yesterday, I went to Target to pick out some items for my coworker’s daughter’s baby shower. I made certain to maintain a scowl the entire time I was in and around the infant department, so that the scenario that occurred the LAST time I purchased baby items would not be repeated. What happened last time, you ask? A small child pointed at me and screamed ‘LOOK MOMMY, SHE’S HAVING A BABY!!!’ No. No, I am NOT having a baby.
After grimacing my way through the infant section, I also went to great lengths to skirt around the maternity section, giving it a 1-department radius, so no women would give me a ‘knowing’ look. NOT PREGNANT, GODDAMNIT. My ‘glow’ is pure, shimmering hate.
Since I was already out and about, I had to check out all of their Halloween wares–shaped cookie-cutters, tchotchkes, and most important of all–dog costumes. The cuteness, I could hardly stand it. They had bee costumes, and dinosaur costumes, and little hoodies with a glow-in-dark skeleton print, and orange-and-black stripey sweaters…one of the best reasons to own a pet is being able to force it into humiliating holiday-themed costumes, which makes me about as fit a pet owner as Britney Spears was a mother; a government agent will be by my home shortly to take Napoleon away and give custody to one of my deadbeat ex-boyfriends. The only thing that kept me from purchasing a back-mounted dinosaur costume was the sure knowledge that my dog would maul me for my indiscretion.
However, I just couldn’t say no to this one:
“Ooh, the embarrassment. SHE WILL PAY. Oh, how she will pay!”
“WHO IS LAUGHING NOW?”
The costume was cute and all, but I’m not really certain it was worth the loss of my left arm. Why, oh why did I tempt the fates?
I hope you let Napoleon keep the arm as a chew toy, if nothing else to admire the looks on your friends and neighbors faces as they spot him carting it around.
He keeps it firmly planted between his teeth when we go on walks. Surprisingly, the neighbors now shoo their children away from us.
That is made of win.
Loss of arm? TOTALLY deserved for abusing your alpha position in the pack in such an egregious manner.
You type impressively well one-handed.
I was simply trying to teach him that the cuter he looks all the time, the more likely he is to get treats without having to do any tricks. I don’t believe this constitutes animal abuse. I’m country, y’all.
Spell-check, baby! It does most of the work for me.
But look on the bright side! Now that he has acquired a better taste of human flesh, he can prey on trick-or-treaters who insist on more than their fair share of candy! (Assuming that you are giving out candy, at first. If not: prosletyzers.)
I will happily be handing out candy this year; hopefully some kids actually show up–the last couple of years have been pretty pathetic. I used to love handing out candy when I lived in Wisconsin. Tons of kids came around, most had excellent costumes, and I was able to scare the bejesus out of more than a few. ‘spose that comes from being in a house instead of an apartment complex.
‘Tis a glorious icon. I much approve.
That icon is the win.
…Awesome.
NOM NOM NOM TASTES LIKE CHIKN.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
your dog fucking OWNS.
He’s hardcore! I think he’s trying to get into a gang. 🙁
can he do gang hand (paw) signals yet?
He’s actually flashing one in the squinchy face photo–I had to crop it out because I don’t promote that sort of activity in my journal!
The best part of people asking if you’re pregnant when you’re not is the part where you say, “No, I’m just fat!” with a huge grin on your face. Then you can practically taste their embarrassment. They’ll either squirm, shuffle their feet, give a nervous laugh, stumble through apologies and rationalizations, all that. I love watching people jump through socially painful hoops.
This happened to me last week, if you’re curious. I figure you’ve gotta make the best out of a bad situation.
It’s even better when it’s a kid who calls you out because if you say, “No, sweetie, I’m just fat,” the mom will fall over herself trying to apologize.
I love using children to embarrass adults. The other day, when the most adorable boy scout I’ve ever seen* asked me if I’d like to buy some popcorn to help support his troop, I asked him if he knew what discrimination was. He responded to the affirmative, and THEN I asked him if he knew that the boy scouts discriminate against people with different religious beliefs and gay people, too, and they hate me and my family, and did he REALLY want to be part of a hate group? His eyes got VERY big and the troop leaders alternately glared at me and stuttered.
Too sweet.
I’m going to go with the ‘No, I’m just fat’ answer if there’s a next time. 😀
That is too damn adorable. Also, that kid will carry that incident with him through the end of his days. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE A LEGACY.
My work here is done.
:bionic jumps away:
See, this is why you’re my hero.
:bionic jumps back:
I do my best!
:bionic jumps away:
DID YOU GET PACKAGES, GODDESS OF PACKAGES?
Also, why won’t you IM with me? I’m hurt. No really, there’s a large boulder pinning my abdomen, and I thought you could help.
I haven’t been home, I don’t know. Isn’t today Columbus day, though? That means no mail, AFAIK.
My internet at home is wonky–most of the time when I’m there, I can’t connect. Then, when I leave the apartment, it’ll connect, and AIM will be like “OMG WOW INTERNETS” and you’ll send me messages, but I won’t recieve them until I get home and it’s disconnected again.
So in other words, please to stop IMing me when I’m not there.
Oh rite, it is Columbus Day. The day that all First Nationers really love. About 1/3rd or so of me it totally outraged, the rest is pretty apathetic.
Your IM is mysterious. But now I know. And knowing? (Well you know the rest).
…IS HALF THE BATTLE.
I like how Columbus gets credit for something he didn’t even do. It’s almost as good as mission accomplished in terms of sheer ineptitude.