01 May 2010

Storm Damage

I tried to be nice last night.
 
And you know what happens when you try to be nice? It comes back and bites you in the pants.
 
Very, very much in the pants.
 
It all started when I was getting ready to leave for our away baseball game yesterday afternoon. I was positive that as soon as I got there the game would be cancelled from the massive storms that were headed our way - we were even under a tornado watch with the possibility of heavy rains, flooding and nickle-sized hail.
 
You know. A beautiful night for a baseball game.
 
So I thought I would be nice. 
 
Instead of leaving the dogs outside in their run under the carport, I thought it would be better if they stayed inside just in case the lightening and tornadoes got really bad. Last time storms came through we had limbs down in the yard - I don't want the dogs to get hurt by storm damage.
 
"Seriously," I thought to myself, "how much damage can three couch-potato dogs do?" 
 
Turns out, a lot.
 
I'm almost hesitant to post the pictures. Actually, I'm very hesitant to post the pictures. The pictures are very much like I think the end of the world will look like as depicted in the Book of Revelation.
 
It's that awful. 
 
It's one of those things where you walk in the door and look around. You don't see anything amiss so you let your guard down and think "Alright! Nothing happened. No accidents. No blood and fur. Everything was fine."
 
Then you go into the next room. 
 
And see this. 
 
 
See the chair in the middle of the room? That's our very, very heavy chair-and-a-half recliner.
 
That is not it's normal parking spot. Not even close.
 
Man, they had a good time, didn't they? A little puppy party when I was only gone for three hours.  
 
I just stood there. I was proud of myself - I didn't scream, I didn't freak. I just stood there and thought, "Ok. Ok. Oooookkkkkkaaaayyyy. Well, what now?"
 
My other thought was that I needed to clean it up before Matt got home or else there'd be four of us sleeping in the kennel for the next week.
 
First order of business: move the chair back to it's rightful position. I figured they ripped apart a blanket, tossing fluff every which way and having a grand old time.
 
Yeah. It wasn't a blanket. Not even close. Guess what I saw when I walked around to start pushing the chair back to the other side of the room?
 
 
Yeah.
 
Once again, I just stood there. I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. My mother's voice popped into my head. I could seriously hear her saying something along the lines of "Oh Addie. Can't you have anything nice? You should have thought about this when you wanted three dogs."
 
I think I started giggling out of pure hysterics.
 
What else are you going to do? Matt and I came to a conclusion a long time ago that has done wonders for our relationship. If something like this happens, why freak? Why scream? Why get all worked up over something that already happened? Matt always says you can't go back in time to change anything, so you just make the best of it and move forward. It's all about how you choose to react.
 
You can either make a bad situation worse with a bad, mad, freaked-out attitude or make that bad situation better by realizing that hey - it's just a chair and not the end of the world and you're still alive and you have a roof over your head - so you grab a broom and do a quick reupholster job with your favorite Christmas blanket.
 
 
See? It looks better already. And my sister saved the day by emailing me about 10000 links to websites that sell recliner slipcovers. We'll be back to our non-trashy, non-ripped apart furniture selves in no time.
 
And of course, the dogs acted like nothing was wrong. They plum wore themselves out and have spent most of today sleeping.  
 
Don't let their innocent sleepy-faces fool you. They're just dreaming about their next round of destruction.
 
 
And just in case you're wondering, we did have some pretty bad storms last night. We are very glad the dogs weren't out in it, despite the damage on the inside of the house. Ironic, I know. Bet we're one of the only lucky families in that situation.
 
Yay us.
 
On another note, Knuke tried to get into Matt's duffel bag earlier this morning. Matt just keeps it on the floor in the dining room - it has all of his baseball stuff in it that he takes to school and to games. I told Knuke to get out of there, and Matt told me something interesting. Apparently, last week Knukie figured out how to actually unzip the bag with his teeth. Matt caught him unzipping it and taking out a baseball that was at the bottom.
 
He just wanted a smelly old baseball to gnaw on.
 
So they're now in their crates for awhile today (with toys and treats...it's not a complete time-out) because every mom needs a break sometimes.
 
Today I love: A spouse that is super laid-back and crates with dog-proof latches

2 comments:

Grace Wheeler said...

Yikes! We just got a dog ourselves, (I blogged about it last weekend) and my husband and I keep saying that babies are SOOOO much easier than dogs!

So next time, instead of another dog, I think we'll just have another baby :)

fallingintofavor said...

Funny!

When I was visiting my mom I thought that I'd be nice too and let her little pomeranian roam free in the house when I left. I noticed since I had moved they have a kennel for her, but she looks so sad when you say the word kennel so I left her out...

And she scratched up the front door after I left! Apparently she has developed a separation anxiety since my sister and I left her to go to college. who knew? :)