Teresa's Blog

So when I get on a blogging streak like this, 3 in a week or so, I start to get addicted.  Anything slightly interesting in my life occurs (I realize interesting is up for interpretation, well  mostly mine) and I start crafting the stories in my mind for my next blog.  So this morning Shiloh was driving me crazy with lots of his head on my knee while I am in my “office” chair so I decided to take him to daycare.  Also I had a few meetings so I figured he would enjoy that more than being locked up in his “K”, as we refer to his kennel as all good parents do with any dog commands when they around the dog so as to not confuse it.  So we hopped in the car I hoped the 580 interchange near the SF bridge would be clear but I was wrong so it was slow sledding for awhile.  And then I got lost, I turned on 64th but its actually on 63rd come to find out.  And the maps function on my phone wouldn’t work so I couldn’t find it.  My email wouldn’t work either so I couldn’t pull up the address that way.  So we stop, go, stop, go, put-putting around literally alleys in Emeryville when all of sudden I realize its musty in the car and Shiloh is licking his chops and drooling insistently.  By the time my mommy vomit meter caught up and rolled down the windows it was too late, thankfully the damage was minimal.  Anyway the point of my story is I was thinking about telling this vomit story in the blog because there is more that includes me forgetting to clean it up for hours and then scooping it up into an envelope using junk mail and even picking up a piece with my hand in frustration at my fumbling to scoop it with a torn marketing flyer.  I am thinking about how this will make a great blog post while walking Shiloh in the park tonight when I look over and realize he is peeing on the part of the bbq that you put your food on.  It had been taken off the bbq and leaned against the bbq on the ground.  Now who in their right mind would do this I don’t know.  And I can almost guarantee Shiloh wasn’t the first to pee on it because if it actually smelled like food he would have been licking it instead.  I was mortified, pulled him, said lets go, looked around and saw there were indeed park dwellers who may have witnessed the deed and headed off to my home where my cookware is closed up in a cabinet.  Morale of the story: Avoid bbq parties at the park at all costs and eat only the potato salad and cookies.