Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Who Knew Preschool Drop Off Could Baffle...

And other reasons I might have to hit myself with a brick to start being more normal.

Against my better judgment I took Stein, otherwise known as Chloe the Puggle, with us in the car today while attempting preschool drop off. (As a side note, the dog is Stein, not Chloe. She was named Chloe by her first family and it is far too pretty and dainty of a name for this animal. And, Chloe rhymes with our last name, making the whole thing so ridiculous, even for us. ) Why Stein? I don't know if she were human she'd probably be Gertrude Stein, a personal literary heroine of mine. And seriously, that wrinkly little face and pudgy body makes for a Stein.

Upon getting Liv out of the car in the very crowded parking lot for preschool drop off, I give Stein the authoritative command to SIT and STAY in the car while I open the door to get everyone and everything out of the car. She immediately ignores me, and leaps over a row of seats to freedom in the parking lot. I drop Liv on the ground and scream at the dog to SIT. She does, under the very large SUV turning on the engine getting ready to leave next to me. I whip her neck around to come to me and she panic's and jerks her neck to rid herself of her collar and leash. I am completely forgetting that I have a three year old unattended in the busy parking lot. I once again yell at the dog to come. Some lady stops to ask if she is a puggle. I grit my teeth and and yes, an ill behaved puggle. The lady looks at me like I need to take a pill, which admittedly I probably did need to chill out a bit. I scoop up the dog and toss her furry little ass in the hatch of the Durango. I walk Liv into school.

Now we are off to get the dog's nails trimmed, which is why she was invited on this little tour through town in the first place. The dog has something resembling bear claws for talons, thus making her monthly expenditure on canine pedicures much more than my own. The gentleman waiting to grind those nails down is sporting the strangest purple goatee. Yes, purple. As I stood waiting hoping he would not inflict some strange grooming choice on MY dog the other lady in the shop piped up telling me that the purple goatee was in fact hair dye, not to worry they dye is purple but surely the final result would be some innocuous form of brown in about 8 more minutes. Doggie hair dye. I wasn't sure whether to begin the line of subsequent questioning about what doggie hair dye is or why he was using on his own face. So I chose to ignore the whole situation, which was admittedly killing me. The man trimming my dog's nails was pulling double duty by coloring his own facial hair, in front of clients, while making a few extra bucks on a drop in puggle nail trim. For some reason, I find this whole situation extremely twilight zone. When I went to pay he did not have change. We are not talking high finance here, he couldn't break a ten. To remedy the situation he left the shop and went next door to Subway for change. I felt like shouting, "Hey, pick up a 6" meat ball sub while your over there." But I refrained, completely entraced by that purple goatee, waiting for my two dollars in change.

While waiting for the nonexistent meat ball sub and change I tell the dog to SIT, as she was yanking my arm making it difficult to look for any spare one dollar bill. The lady behind the counter gasps loudly and says "Ugh, what did you say? This week is national no swear words week. No swear words in the shop!" It takes me a minute to get it, she thought I said...that swear word that rhymes with SIT. I explained that NO I said SIT to my DOG. You know the one your purple goatee'd employee just worked on? "Oh", she apologized. Right, because SIT is something you never hear while working with pets all day, every day.

You know, I love weird people. I suppose in that parking lot chasing a puggle while ignoring my CHILD amongst 35 running minivans, I am one of those weird people. Some crazy wacko preschool mom is probably blogging about the idiot woman who brings the puggle to preschool drop off endangering animal and preschooler alike this very minute.


Jeni said...

I'm dying here. LMAO. Does that count as a swear? Oy!

Traci said...

Too funny....your stories are always entertaining, Perrin.

RamblingMother said...