Being a parent is glamorous, and if you have pets and no kids you can totally relate. If you have pets and kids, you’re my kind of crazy because that shit just gets wild.
Sticking with the life is unpredictable theme, I thought it would be fun to reminisce about all the glorious, soul enriching experiences that are to be had as (fur) parents.
I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up; I still don’t, but I know those fantasies looked nothing like the reality I now face.
It isn’t until a little furry or squirmy being relies on you for sustenance and existence that you fully grasp how incredible life is.
For example, it wasn’t until I had a dog that I ever even imagined that I would yell things like “STOP LICKING THE CARPET” or maybe “WE HAVE COMPANY! LICK YOUR BALLS SOMEWHERE ELSE”.
There is the all-time crowd pleasing question of “Honey, are you farting or did the dog shit in the hall again?”
Then there’s the wild array of questions thrown at you when the kids finally learn to speak (silence IS golden. Appreciate.) You get to say things like, “No, snot is NOT a vegetable. Yes, I know it’s green, it’s still NOT a vegetable” and “It only looks like chocolate. Don’t taste it”. If you’ve got boys, Jeebus help you, they’ll thunder out loud at the most inopportune time. Like during silent reading time at the library. Things like “MOMMY! MY PENIS GETS BIGGER WHEN I PULL IT LIKE THIS!” and he WILL proceed to pull it, just like that.
You’ll sometimes feel as though you’ve dodged a bullet. Your child, against all odds has never embarrassed you. Never let your guard down, that’s when they strike.
Picture it, Christmas. Holiday best attire, the finest china and all your uptight relatives gathered around the table. You’re part way through asking Aunt Sara to pass the potatoes when you hear your little angel telling Grandma “MOMMY AND DADDY MAKE A LOT OF NOISE WHEN THEY GO TO BED AT NIGHT. WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY’RE DOING?” or if you’re really blessed “I SAW MOMMY AND DADDY WRESTLING NAKED! IT LOOKED LIKE MOMMY WAS WINNING. SHE WAS ON TOP”. Please, Sarah. PASS THE FUCKING POTATOES.
You learn to dress in black; or white depending upon what colour fur the dogs have, and what colour puke the kids have, you artistically arrange furniture and buy plants to place over the stains in the carpet, because try as you might purple-koolaid-puke-does-NOT-wash-out, you convince yourself that greasy-chic hair IS cutting edge, sleep is overrated, fashion is underrated and the various stains are just an organic new pattern.
When you have dogs and kids, it gets a little trickier. You have to make sure that neither the child nor the dog eats the presents in the cat box, that the kid doesn’t eat the dog food, that the cat doesn’t eat the kid. You will be sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and sobbing on a daily basis. There are boundaries. The cat can go here, but not here, the dog isn’t allowed over there, and the kid must be secured in a bubble.
One day you’ll be half way to the vet and realize the kid is on the leash, the dog is in the baby carrier and the cat is driving the fucking car?
Welcome to adulthood. Your future looks furry.