Why we have children and pets

There are times when I think I have lost my mind and I sure do miss it. Those times seem to occur when my children and/or pets are driving me nuts; nuts, I like nuts, except peanuts, they make me crazy. Crazy, I was crazy once, they put me in a round room with a rubber mallet and a rubber duck. It drove me nuts. Nuts, I like nuts...You get the picture.

Nevertheless, there are endearing moments when I am so glad I have children and pets. I get all misty eyed and have to take a deep breath.

For instance, how can I not just adore this face? When K comes into my room and says, "Mama, I am bored." She looks at me with that sad pathetic face and those great big eyes. What is a parent to do but feel love of all sorts?



Need I say more?


It's a funny thing, the things kids like. B could spend all day looking at and sitting in cars. I'm glad he found a car that was just his size.




Then they grow up and their voices squeak and they need showers four or five times a day and your fridge is constantly empty.



He tries to be good, but it is so hard. He just needs extra love, and all the attention at once.

Walter aka "the best puppy-dog ever"


The REAL queen of the domain! I love this dog almost more than I love, um, something. She is getting old, and I will be so sad when her time in my life in no longer allowable.

Well, it is a tail without a cat. Why are cats so bizarre? I don't know either.

Can I try something?

I am not sure if all husbands are like mine. In fact I am quite sure they are not. And yet, after 14 years of marriage, I am still amazed at how I get sucked right into Taylor's experiments. By experiments, I don't mean the scientific kind. I mean the kind where I am the subject of the experiment. He even is polite enough to ask if he can try "something".

"Sure!" I say. As I bend over to put something in the garbage. I am used to all kinds of antics where Taylor is concerned; one can never be to cautious where Taylor's brain is involved. I, nevertheless, being his wife, have forgotten that I am not exempt from his clown humor.

I feel something in the waistband of my jeans and I assume that he has put some kind of dumb thing back there like a hard boiled egg or mashed potatoes or perhaps even a raw hot dog, because that is the kind of thing he thinks is humorous.

At this moment my brain sends a signal to my mouth that ends in a screech and a flailing action, because, what I thought was an innocent object in the waistband of my jeans, turns out to be a funnel which Taylor poured cold water into.




Taylor is overcome by hysterics, and then to add insult to injury he takes pictures of my behind, which I post for all the world to see.

Life is certainly never dull, and it is full of contrast. Some of us get clown cars and some of us get clown husbands.