This is How We Make Dinner

In an effort to not break any bones due to tripping over all the little bodies who squeeze into my itty, bitty, little kitchen when I’m trying to make dinner I have started a new ritual.

It goes something like this:

Pull out 6 chew toys (no I haven’t gotten any more dogs)
Give one to each of the dogs, throw the extra two in the living room and scare the cats.
Head back into the wonderfully empty kitchen and start dinner.
Work quickly.
Get dinner a little more than half way done.
Trip over Tramp who is looking lost and has no chew toy.
Make a little more progress on dinner.
Trip over Rommie who looks downright upset and is missing a chew toy.
Look in kitchen doorway.
Wave at Lady since she doesn’t like walking on the kitchen floor she is standing in the doorway, no chew toy.
Finish dinner, carefully stepping over Tramp and Rommie.
Walk out into dinning room, find Bear surrounded by five chew toys and chewing on the sixth.
That’s my boy…

A weak mommy moment

Bear: (Spends evening covering living room with fluff.)
Me: Bedtime! (Kennels Bear and Tramp, gives bedtime treats, head back to living room and clean up fluff and toys)

Next morning

Me: (Lets boys out of kennels, fakes cheerful voice) Good morning Boys
Bear: Hi Mom!
Tramp: Yeah right.
Bear: (Trotting down hallway, turns corner to living room, stops in his tracks) Whoa, what happened?
Me: Keep going Bear, time to go out!
Bear: The fluff! All my fluff is gone! I worked on that all night long!
Tramp: Dude, grumbling at Mom first thing in the morning? Bad idea.
Me: No kidding, the kettle hasn’t even started warming the water yet.
Bear: Mother, we need to talk about this when I get back.
Me: Go for it. (Locking door, wondering if it duct tape would seal it permanently)

Bear: (Hits door handle a little while later to be let in)
Me: (Opens door )
Bear: (Sits in front of me with stern puppy look) Mother, I worked all night long to get all of the fluff just how I wanted it in the living room. I was looking forward to playing with it today.
Me: (Gives up trying to hide smile and covers face with hands) Oh baby Bear I’m so sorry. (Sits down in front of Bear) I didn’t realize you had done that on purpose you didn’t tell me. I must have had a weak mommy moment and cleaned the living room. I am so sorry! (Acts very upset, hands still covering face)

Everyone is very quiet.

Tramp: (Jumps in my lap and starts licking my chin)
Lady: I’m pretty sure she’s faking
Rommie: I am so not getting involved.
Bear: Um Mom, it’s ok, (bumps my hands with nose) I’m not mad, I should have told you. Mom?
Me: So you’re not mad? (I mumble through my hands)
Bear: Nope, not mad
Me: (Grabs Bear in hug) I want a Bear Kiss!
Bear: (Wiggles out of my reach) Mother! You were faking!
Me: Of course I was, a weak mommy moment? Really?
Bear: That is so not fair! (Stalks off to his kennel)

The Boy Learns

Bear: (Head butting the closed kitchen doors)
Me: Bear! Stop! That!
Bear: But Mom! I want in the kitchen!
Me: Really? I had no idea.
Tramp: (Snickers)
Bear: Mother (Sits in his pretty sits, gives me his sad puppy stare) please let me in the kitchen.
Me: No. I’m making pulled chicken and you aren’t allowed in there right now.
Bear: But it smel.. Uh I left a toy in there
Tramp: Wow, the boy’s learning
Me: Bear, even though you can’t get to what “smells good” in there, I’ve already cleaned paw prints off the counters a couple of times today and have no interest in doing it again right now.
Bear: (Walks over to where I am sitting, puts his paws in my lap and gives me a Bear kiss) Please!
Tramp: Goodness he’s pulling out all the stops.
Me: (Hugs Bear) Nope, not going to work.
Bear: Fine (Leaves living room, scratches in his kennel for a little while, sighs loud enough to be heard in the living room and plops down to take a nap.)

Pancakes Anyone?

Me: (Picking up Snow from in front of the door and holding him while I let the dogs out)
Snow: I want to go out too!
Me: Not for a couple of weeks, we are too close to Halloween.
Snow: And?
Me: You are a black cat, some people like to hurt black cats around this time of year.
Snow: That’s silly I don’t bother anyone.
Me: (Puts Snow on back of recliner next to door) How about I pet you every time I let the dogs in or out?
Snow: Really? Does that mean you like me?
Me: I suppose I could agree to those terms.
Snow: (Jumps off recliner) Score!

Later

Snow: (Permanently attached to the back of the recliner)

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Me: (Letting the dogs out, petting Snow)
Snow: I’m kinda thinking you love me!
Me: Don’t push it

Later

Me: (Letting the dogs in, petting Snow)
Snow: Wow I’m starting to think I might be your favorite!
Me: Right. (Note to self, cats don’t get sarcasm)
Bear: (Hits seat of recliner, flips Snow off the top) Excuse me? What did you say?
Snow: You heard her, I’m her favorite!
Bear: (Sits on Snow) Mother!
Snow: (Squeaks)
Me: Bear, what have we decided about the cats and squeaking?
Bear: They aren’t supposed to but he said he’s your favorite. A cat can’t be your favorite. Besides he isn’t squeaking anymore.
Me: Bear, he stopped squeaking because he can’t breathe!
Bear: So?
Me: So, I am not explaining to Rachel why Snow got turned into a pancake, stand up!
Bear: (Stands up, snorts) Silly cat!
Snow: (Taking several deep breaths) Tell me again why I shouldn’t go outside?