Fleas, Please

If your dog has fleas, and you shoot your dog, do the fleas go away?

What if you just shoot your dog in the leg? Do the fleas say, "Whoa, we don't need this crap" and pack up and leave? I’ll give them the suitcases. They can keep the frequent jumper miles. I’ve tried everything else. I’m pretty much down to shooting the dog.

I love my dog. Seriously. I just un-love the fleas more. I think they must be mutant fleas. I looked really close, and one of them was carrying a sign that read, “You can’t touch this.”

I’d love to strangle their necks. Do fleas have necks? How would you go about strangling them if they do? Tweezers? Maybe, but I’d probably poke out their eyes by accident. I can see it now, sued by a flea for reckless endangerment. It’s kind of like if someone breaks into your home and you kill him or her, you’re all good. On the other hand, if you only maim them, you’d better have good insurance. Can I buy flea-maiming insurance? Where would I find it? E-bay?

At one point I know I killed every last flea having a fiesta courtesy of my dog. Unfortunately, their relatives have taken up residence in some unknown quarter of my home and keep hopping up on him as he walks past. I’m not sure where to turn next. I sprayed the beds and the furniture and the floors to the point that my tongue went numb. I heard them laughing as I gagged. One of them yelled, (in a teeny weenie voice) “We’re coming to get you”. I think they meant it. I’m a little scared. They keep hopping up and down on my dog shouting something about spoils to the victor.

This is a never-ending battle against an enemy of infinite proportions. Please don’t tell me you know how to get rid of them. I know you THINK you do. You don’t. Not these guys. These guys are out for blood.

I’ve used flea medicine on their necks, bathed (in flea shampoo and in garlic- I gave the dog a bath too), sprayed the furniture and floors (I’ve said this already, but since my tongue is still numb, it bears repeating), sprayed the yard, ripped out carpet, washed and rewashed and rerewashed blankets and bedding, and even thrown out certain questionable stuffed animals. (Don’t tell my kid) Nope, nothing doing. Here they come.

I think they’ve got a theme song. If I’m very quiet I can hear a chorus of

Flea

Flea fly

Flea fly flow

Feasta Cooma lotta cooma lotta cooma lotta feasta

Oh no, no, no, na feasta

Esca meany sala meany Oh-ah do ah-la meany

Esca meany sala meany Oh-ah do ah

With an epp bidily oatin doatin bo-dope skid eatin dats a what I can chew

The pathetic thing is I’m now quietly singing along, and tapping my foot. Ok, there’s a little foot shuffle and hip movement as well.

Can you see why the question of shooting the dog has become such an important one? I'm beginning to think my dog is on board with the idea; he just brought me a loaded Colt 45 and stuck out his paw.

Wish us luck.

"Those" Ladies

I wish I could be one of “those ladies”. You know the kind. They look in their fridge; see one turkey leg, ½ a bag of baby carrots and a mozzarella stick. The next thing you know…bam! Four course meal.
I, on the other hand, can have just come home from spending an ungodly amount of money grocery shopping and end up sitting on the floor with a bag of Doritos on my lap, a can of diet coke sitting beside me and nothing to fix for supper. (At least I have the essentials!)
I really have never figured out how “they” do it. I have a friend who’s one of “those ladies”. We’ll go on an outing and without breaking a sweat she’ll pull out suntan lotion, water bottles, snacks and every single solitary thing a child could need. Usually this is all packed neatly into an easy-to-carry tote baggy like thingy. She’s kind enough to always bring extra for my kid as well… she knows I’ll forget. I mean, it’s the beach. I made sure my kid had a swim suit. I was pretty proud of that.
When she brings her kids over to my house they come along with their own healthy snack, and, of course, enough to share. When I bring my kid over to her house, well….I brought the child, what else do you want???
These ladies never forget a birthday, holiday, anniversary etc. I’ve been known to wake up Halloween morning and think, oh, man, I should really get my child something to wear! One February was particularly stressful, “What do you mean today’s Valentines Day and you’re supposed to have a card for every kid in your class? How about one big one to put on the board that says ‘I like you all….really!’?” Apparently in first grade they take that stuff really seriously. I’ve just never quite caught up.
I‘ve finally figured out somewhat of a solution to not being one of “those ladies”. Everyone who’s a little domestically challenged like, well… me should try this: Get a friend who’s one of “those ladies”. Don’t hide the fact you’re pretty much totally incompetent with all things domestic. Eventually, being the kind as well as efficient people they are, they will feel sorry for, well, if not you, at least your child. My friend now calls a few weeks before each Holiday to remind me of what my kid might need. Now, granted, sometimes she has to remind me more than once, and sometimes that still isn’t enough, but it’s a start. My daughter actually got to the store to pick out a costume before they ran out last October! There’s a first time for everything.
Now, if I could just figure out how to get her to come to my house and make dinner.

Diet is a Four Letter Word

There’s a reason the word “diet” is a four letter word.
I started a diet the other day. I was eating healthy, I was exercising, and I was feeling, in general, really good about myself. It’s that second half-hour that started to kill me. I’m sure it’s a psychological thing, but I could swear the chocolate ice-cream was calling my name. Loudly. Often. Loudly…that bears mentioning again. I ignored it, of course. I could make it through the day. One day at a time, right? “I have the will power!” I reminded myself as I opened the freezer door, and the carton of ice cream. I know what you’re thinking, but I just smelled it while telling it to pipe down. Nothing wrong with that.
Then I stepped on the scale. WHAT? How can a person gain 2 pounds from sniffing ice-cream? I tried really hard to calm myself down, to remind myself of the outfits in my closet that I was sure I could get into if only I could stick this out. They’re really cute outfits. I went to look at them again. Yep, they were as cute as I remembered. Perhaps a little smaller, though. It was then I realized I might have to diet for more than 2 days. This was getting depressing.
Of course, the best thing for depression is chocolate. Any fool knows that! I knew where some was. It was calling me earlier, remember? “No!” I told myself. I’ll just go exercise. That’s also good for depression. Ok. So, 10 minutes later I’m lying on the floor panting. This exercise thing is for the birds. Now I’m hungry. Hmmm. Chocolate’s good for that too.
“NO! I can do this!” I shouted out loud, to no one but myself. (My family had hit the road as soon as I mentioned the word “diet”. They’re not stupid. They know why it’s a four letter word.) “YES, you can do this,” came a reply from my freezer.
A few hours later, my family returned to find me sitting crossed-legged on the kitchen floor with a messy face and an empty tub of chocolate ice-cream on my lap. “I saved us!” I yelled. I wasn’t any thinner, and my pretty clothes weren’t any larger, but I had defeated the talking ice-cream. It wasn’t easy, either. I’m also pretty sure I burned off quite a few calories getting rid of the cold, mean, chocolate threat. After all, who knows what havoc a talking ice-cream tub could cause? First they talk, and then they steal. My family should have thanked me for ridding our house of such a menace!
Can you believe there were no thank you’s? There was no “atta-girl”, or “way-to go mom”. Nope, apparently I was the only one who truly appreciated the threat. All I can say, is it’s a good thing I was there. My “diet” may have suffered a bit, but it was worth it for my family!
I’ve decided to put my diet on hold for a few weeks (or months). All that “protecting the family” stuff stressed me out. A stressed out mom is no good to anyone. Of course, everyone knows the best thing for stress is chocolate.