It’s not yet summer, my boys are getting old enough to feel borderline silly using shit like this, and I don’t even like dogs. But still, I could not help but snatch up the entire supply (3) of these at the local Wal-Mart a few weekends ago.
My boys were sitting in the cart when I tossed them in. My kindergartener eyed them for a moment, doing some quick calculations.
“But Mom,” he said, “there aren’t even three kids in our family.”
I looked at him. Thought for a moment. Placed a hand on my hip.
“Well,” I said, nodding, “maybe we should start thinking about adopting a brother for you boys. It’d be fun to have another Ethiopian in the family, wouldn’t it, guys?”
My boys could hardly contain their excitement. “YES!” they squealed in delight, bouncing up and down in the cart.
My husband shot me a look. “Really?” he asked. “Really, you’re going to spring this on me in the middle of the—" he quickly scanned our surroundings— "useless shit aisle of Wal-Mart? You’ve picked this moment to have this discussion?”
I held my hands up, stepping back in mock surrender. “Or we could just use the third hot dog slicer when one of the neighborhood kids comes over for lunch. DRAMA QUEEN,” I added in a mutter as I shared a wide-eyed look with my boys. “Jeez.”
I do sometimes wonder how he puts up with me.