Dad here; 0645 at the Casa. I’m trying my best to let mom sleep in, but there is a revolving parade of needy inmates demanding attention.
Mia the Unsullied, who, much to get chagrin, has escaped her last incarceration unhumped, is the first to lead the charge. I’m pretty sure that there was an anteater somewhere back in her family tree, as she can snake a tongue far enough into an ear canal to make Qtips obsolete. This process must be exacerbated be pinning one to the mattress with her foreclaws, until…
…here comes the lumbering wildebeest; one swipe of her mighty horns clears a path to the watering hole. She plops herself down in the mire and begins lathering my face with her tongue; wait a minute, that’s not just any Serengeti bovine, that’s the Charles! Hey, Charlie, what’s up? Not much, dad, just finished washing my loins, thought I would jump up here and share the wealth; is mom up yet?
Darting their way in and out of this miasma of animals is a pack of giggling hyenas, actually only one, but that one so active that it seems like a hundred. That would be The Pup Previously Known as Yolo el Guapo, who mom has renamed Bolo, on his ever-present quest to prove that he is the most annoying dog to ever prance into the Casa.
This revolving cadre of inmates demanding attention continues until the carousel is brought to a screeching halt by the sound of Angel the Perpetually Mouthy Who Is On Her Own Personal Time Schedule demanding to be let back in. On her return from the back door, mom uses her bare foot to find a land mine apparently deposited by a passing bull elephant, but actually a Mother’s Day gift from Bolo.
Her response was a Freudian slip of epic proportions: she meant to call him “Snicklefritz” but instead blurted out “Pickle Schitz!”, which considering the size and consistency of his movements, was actually a very accurate description.
This is when Charlie and I decided to vacate the premises for the relative safety of the back porch, only to find that the hummingbirds had already laid claim to this particular piece of real estate; they say there is no rest for the wicked, I just didn’t know that we were this wicked.
What’s up, Charlie?
It takes a pretty special breed of momma to put up with this circus, doesn’t it?
Yes, Charlie, yes it does.
Happy Mother’s Day!