So my brother brought home a puppy yesterday. That makes the dog count up to three. He also brought his two kids back to the lake – that makes the kid count up to four. I called my dad to find out how he was doing. You know, with the kids and the dogs and the food… I didn’t get an answer the first time. I was concerned that maybe the kids had him tied up to the chair or something. I can just picture it… grandpa tied to the chair with a sock stuffed in his mouth and three dogs lickin his feet.
He called me back and we actually had a pretty decent conversation. In between the lunch orders and yelling at the kids. I was just happy to hear from him! Apparently he’d already cleaned up two poops from the driveway and some vomit on the swing set. I was a little nervous to ask who did what. Thankfully, it was the new puppy! I told him he needed to make Brody in charge of the new puppy – apparently, that’s why there was puke on the swing set.
It seems Brody took the new puppy on the swing set and the dog got motion sick. He puked and then proceeded to poop everywhere. I’m sure Brody had the best intentions. I asked Evan if he liked the little puppy and he said “Yep, and he’s real chubby.” I said “does grandpa like the new puppy?” “Yep, and the puppy’s name is buddy.” I’m glad my father can hide his distaste for the new chubby puppy in front of the kids. He’s a real softie and I’m sure dad will warm up to the pup. Someday.