A story in which my house doesn't explode.

The house is finished.  Which means that we can move in.  It also means that we can get cable.  Now, I am not a huge television person, but the inconvenience of not having your own space in which to watch your favorite show, or even sit there watching absolutely nothing because you are too freaking tired to process coherent thought, let alone read a book, IS A BIG ONE. 

The cable appointment was for between 4:30 and 6:30 pm.  As I am not a rookie, I explained to my 18 year old daughter Meghan what she needed to know, if the cable guy showed up early.  Which is always how it works.  If you are at home, they arrive at 7.  If you are out, they are ready at 3.    I was out.

Upon arrival, the cable guy informs Megs that he is afraid of dogs.  I get this.  Many people have had a bad experience in their lives, and develop a life long fear.  

Meet Johnny, and Lola.

They look like this 99% of the time.  Relaxed does not begin to describe them.  A better word might be comatose.  Regardless, Megs knew better than to mess with our appointment, and closed them in my bedroom.

Oh, back to the early arrival time, and a brief description of my house.  We don't have a yard.  I know.  Two big dogs and no yard?  It isn't by choice.  It is a function of the new house.  Lots are small, and patios are more common.  This means we spend a lot of time walking dogs.  Megs would have walked our dogs at 3:30, but the cable guy showed up at 3... and was afraid of dogs.

When I arrived at 4, I immediately went to check on the cable guy.  It was at this point that he informed me that he might not be able to do the job because our electrical meter was grounded to the gas line, and if we were struck by lightening, our house could explode.  Let me say that again.  If we were struck by lightening, our house could EXPLODE!!!!!

I tend to be calm in these situations.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe it is from being a mother.  Motherhood is all about dealing with the unexpected and not freaking out.  Well at least not freaking out until after the kids are in bed.  So we decided to sever the grounding wire.  While there is still a fire danger if we were struck by lightening, we would at least not explode.  Plus it is Southern California.  We are not exactly known for our massive rainstorms.

It was now 5, and after 2 plus hours of plying the dogs with treats to keep them happy, I asked Megs to take them for a walk and I will deal with the cable guy.  She walked into my room, and I heard, "Is this pee on your bed?"  I looked in the door.  My bed was wet, really wet.  Immediately I went into denial.  I said, "No, that's probably just from Lola licking the Kong."  Ha!  Licking the Kong.  Just like Santa wears fancy pink panties.  No, one of the dogs, and I won't name names (Lola), peed on my bed.

I stripped the bed, threw the sheets in the wash.  Took the towels and tried to dry my bed enough that I could treat it with rug cleaner.  I applied the rug cleaner, put a towel on top of it, weighted it down with boxes, and ran out the door to pick up Karen Ray from jump rope camp.

By the time I got there, I was in tears.  The adrenaline had worn off, and I was beside myself.  My husband wasn't even here yet from Boston, and our dog has PEED on our bed! I pulled myself together and went in to pick up Karen Ray. 

This is the part where I tell you about my amazing children. 

The Goose could tell something was wrong immediately.  She didn't ask me, but she held my hand while I signed her out.  We walked to the door, stepped out into the sun, and she said, "Are you okay, Mom?" 

I would love to say I was strong. 

I said, "Lola peed on my bed."  Halfway through the sentence my voice broke.  She wrapped her arms around me, said she was sorry, and hugged me all the way to the car.

We stopped at the grocery store, rented a Rug Doctor, the hose attachments, bought the industrial strength Pet Cleaner with urine dissolving crystals, and headed home.  The freaking cable guy was still there.  I told the girls that my plan was to make dinner and then clean my bed.  I said this without crying. 

Megs said, "I'll make dinner.  You take care of your bed."

Which she did.  And I did.  And then we ate.  And there was wine.  And Karen Ray gave me a hand massage.  And while I can't say all was right with the world, it was definitely vastly improved.

I love my girls ... and my dogs.

Acacia
Red Table Wine
$12.99
Medium bodied
Normally I would rate it as passable, but on this day? 
Freakin' delicious!