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Friday, February 16, 2007
My kids want a dog. I'd love to have one around, but the work involved is more than I know my household could stand. We don't keep up with the day-to-day stuff well enough as it is, much less with four more legs running around.
I told my kids to train themselves for a dog by cleaning up the droppings in our neighbor's yard. We have three neighbors with dogs and I bet they'd be glad to have the help. The Minnesota winters make removing the droppings less unpleasant, because they become solids after an hour or so. The kids thought that was pretty funny, "Yeah. Right, Dad."
It reminds me of a story my sister told me about my nephews. I'll probably get some of the details wrong. But here it goes anyway.
They were little guys, under 10 years old for sure. Their job was to pick up their dog's droppings. They had quite a bit to clean up and used empty bread bags to collect it. They got into a fight and started whacking each other with the bags of droppings. The bags broke open and they both were covered in the mess.
When my sister discovered the disaster, she made them take baths. They understood the need for a bath, but they were really mad because she also made them wash their hair and it wasn't their night to wash hair.
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