Tuesday, July 18, 2006

A Tad Behind on Blog Postings

Okay, so I am more than "a tad" behind. I have been negligent partly because my sister Tina was here for a week-and-a-half, partly because our laptop power cord is on the fritz, and partly because I get two words typed and have to be SuperDaddy. It is possible to type while holding a screaming baby, but not easy.

A Proud Aunt Tina with Jack


Homer to the Rescue!

I haven't mentioned anything about Homer and his boy in a while. Partly this is because he hasn't' done anything different than the usual checking up on him or getting a little distressed when Jack is upset. Yesterday, Homer showed that he is still very concerned about the little boy's well-being. I was playing with Jack on his little jungle-gym mat when I, ahem, dropped a toy on his face. Before you call social services, it wasn't very heavy and it was only a short drop. It did not hurt Jack, but it scared him. Homer was in the bathroom getting a drink (from his water cooler, not the toilet). As soon as Jack started wailing, Homer bolted into the room with water streaming from his mouth because he was so worried he did not even finish swallowing. He insisted on sniffing Jack from head to toe to make sure he was okay. I insisted on Homer drying his mouth a little before he came near us. After Homer had (mostly) stopped drooling, I allowed him to do some "Lab" work on Jack to make sure he was okay. After several good sniffing-overs, Homer deemed Jack to be healthy and went back to his drinking.

But later that night...

You would think that a dog that is so worried about his little boy would protect him in any circumstance, right? Homer has decided this summer that he is afraid of thunderstorms. This is his third summer (he is two) and the first one that thunder has frightened him. As soon as he hears the first rumble of thunder, usually well before us, he starts shaking and panting hard. This would not be so bad if when it storms in the night he didn't lean on the bed over me. There is nothing like being woken up with the feeling that you are laying in a cheap motel's vibrating bed underneath a foul-smelling warm, dripping faucet. This has happened a few times this summer. And each time, as soon as he realizes I am awake he tries to crawl on top of me so that I will protect him. Damn dog.


No comments: