by teresa

Blogging from the hospital.

A glimpse into five minutes of my day:

I'm in the kitchen getting ready to nuke some stouffers for dinner.
Ben is watching something on disney...Nick has just left the kitchen(with a roast beef sandwich he was dying for since he didn't eat lunch today) and was headed to the office to do homework.
I hear my cellphone ringing.
Nick comes running in the kitchen with it for me (how sweet).
It's our neighbor Gerri.
She is calling from the hospital to tell me they just took my mom back for surgery.
As I am carefully listening and gathering all pertinent information I hear screams.
It sounds like the,"SHHHHOOOOORRRTTTYYY!!!!!"
I am still listening to Geri but trying to figure out what is going on when I hear this,"WAAAAA! STOP KICKING THE DOOOOGGGG!"
As I am hanging up, putting the stouffers back in the freezer and looking for my shoes I head around the corner to find :
Son # 1 crying
Son # 2 crying
Dog # 1 with tail between legs scooting past me to retreat upstairs
Bits of roast beef and chips (which I didn't know Nick had) crushed all over the carpet.

We have all heard the old adage about not taking food from a dog without expecting payback.
Well in my house the dog learned that you do NOT take food from a 12yrd old boy without payback.

While Nick brought me the phone....Shorty helped himself to the big, juicy roast beef sandwich Nick had so carefully made.
Nick found him and pounced.
Trying like mad to push the dog off with his foot only to be accosted by his younger brother (and apparent PETA spokesperson) for (in Ben's words) beating up the dog.
Ben took to kicking and hitting his brother (which is apparently okay as long as you leave the dog unharmed).
Nick and him were in a slap fight when I came around the corner (with Shorty underfoot still taking a crack at the last bits of sandwich that were being stomped into my rug).

Thanks mom for having an operation just so I could have an excuse for getting out of the house.