Instagram update, just for you

I am at a loss of late about what to write. I think the unedited photos from Charlie's birthday parties (still on my camera and now almost a month old!) have left me paralyzed when it comes to TB.

So instead, I shall avoid the Nikon like the plague and use my old buddy Instagram to catch you up on our activities to date. My apologies in advance to the three super dedicated people who read both this blog and follow me on Instagram. I'm sure you understand.

 [Mary Clare made the acquaintance of one of my favorites, Shel Silverstein]

[Charlie took an epic poolside nap during our trip to Table Rock]

[new Nikes that renewed my faith in the comfort of tennis shoes]

 [figs that are mine, all mine]

 [there was an incident with a blender -- steri strips were applied, lessons were learned]

 [the kiddos logged quality time in their secret clubhouse, aka an Ikea tent]

[frat boy by day]

 [dumpster diver by night]

 [as always, we reap the rewards of our talented friends]

 [it's not summer without Grandma Sophie's pound cake, which puts the "pound" in "pound cake"]

 [cuddles and curls on the zoo train]

[a cheesy smile from the official zoo train waver]

[the craft cocktail experiment of 2012 continues, now with gigantic ice cubes]

 

So, really, nothing new. Cute kids, cake and cocktails. Not a bad way to spend the summer.

Adoring and imploring glances

I'd like to think this is an adoring glance. But after six years together, I know this guy a little too well. What you see here is a silent plea for a treat. Or a Lab caught in a daydream about a home where they serve second breakfasts.

What there is no denying is that our Buddy boy is in fact getting more and more gray. It used to drive me nuts when Chip would call him Graybeard—not my puppy!—but there's no hiding it in this picture. After last month's dental cleaning, I had a nice, long chat with our vet, Dr. Betsy, and she informed me that our boy is now technically a senior. A senior! At seven! This both bothered and surprised me. Greatly.

So we made the move to a senior dog food with glucosamine, and yes, I started brushing his teeth. It is as awful and annoying as you think it is, but tooth decay is serious business in dogs. Buddy is still a smidge overweight, so I'm hoping that the combination of the lower calorie senior dog food and my commitment to taking him on a nice, long walk at least four days a week will pay off when it's time for his annual check up in November. Because there is nothing more shameful than having Dr. Ed pinch his love handles.

I need to see The Face for many more years. So here's to your health, Buddy! Whether you like it or not.

The pharmacy is no place for fun

I learned an important lesson today. (No, not that lesson. I already knew about the courtesy flush.) This lesson was about sarcasm. It is getting trickier and trickier to use these days. First you can't use it in email, then you can't use it in text messages, and now apparently it is verboten at drive-through windows as well. 

While picking up Charlie's prescription for yet another ear infection, I asked the pharmacist if the antibiotic was flavored. He confirmed that it was, and then started looking up the exact flavor. Despite telling him several times that I didn't need to know what the flavor was, I just wanted to make sure there was a flavor, any flavor, the man was insistent. Perhaps he's dealt with one too many hippie south city moms who like tangerine, but not orange, or want to know if the flavoring is organic?

Anyway, wanting to prove that I'm so not one of those moms and hey, buddy, I feel your pain, I committed the egregious mistake of attempting drive-through sarcasm.

It went a little something like this:

Pharmacist: Okay, it looks like it's mixed berry.
Me: Oh, mixed berry. Do you know which berries?

The pharmacist snapped his head up so fast, I didn't dare wait for him to see the charming smile on my face that said, "Just trying to brighten your day with my awesome sense of humor! Trust me, I'm hilarious! Ten blog readers can't be wrong!" So instead I delivered a hurried, "I'm just kidding. Sorry. Mixed berry is perfect. Really. Thanks for checking. Sorry. Thanks."

And then I grabbed my card and got the hell out of Dodge, thanking my lucky stars that one, Chip wasn't there to witness my bomb, and two, that Charlie is still too young to be embarrassed by this mom.

Loo lesson

Tonight as Mary Clare did her, ahem, business, Chip declared, "Mary Clare, daddy has got to teach you about the courtesy flush."

She immediately responded, "What curtains? And why you flush the curtains?"

(That's right. My posting might be spotty of late, but that doesn't mean I'm going to pass on a good poop post.)

Firecrackers on the fourth