Chris walks in from picking up Lila from swim last night and says, Family meeting, now.
I wonder aloud what I mismanaged this time (it’s been a theme lately).
Lila jumps up and down, singing Family meeting! Family meeting! and then clasping her hands in front of her chest she insinuates herself into my space where I’m preparing dinner at the counter. Please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeese Mama?
I continue spreading garlic scape pesto and goat cheese on slices of whole grain bread and wait for more to be revealed. Chris continues to be vague, We’ve talked about this many times before…
Mmmhmmm, I say, sliding the sheet pan into the broiler and setting the timer. Buying his mother’s house? He wants to get that jeep? Or the convertible? What?
He unfolds a sheet of paper, Now remember, his voice is less tense, he’s buttering me up, and instead of relaxing, I feel even more defensive. We've talked about this before, and this is a really great opportunity.
I give up trying to even guess, and Lila keeps singing her begging song and jumping, so the refrigerator shakes and the cats are running around trying to get away from her, but wanting their usual scritchy-scratchy greeting from Chris.
He lays the paper on the counter, and says, This guy is already spayed and trained, and needs a home right away. He’s six months old and very sweet and he would get you outdoors more, and it would be so good for Lila. He’s free. We would just be giving him an excellent life.
— begging begging begging louder and louder —
This sweet-faced, golden-haired puppy, a pure-breed pit bull whose family can’t keep him because they thought they were buying a house this week, but the deal fell through. They bought the puppy too soon, and their landlord found out and won’t let them keep him there.
Absolutely not. He’ll destroy our brand new floors.
—begging begging begging, verging on the tearful variety—
Well, there you have it, he tells Lila pointedly. Mama says no. He looks up at me and pushes just a little bit, He’ll only get to 50 lbs, the floors are supposed to hold up to heavier than that.
Supposed to, I say. You know they won’t. Nothing ever does. Do you really want to take that chance?
The conversation stops while we plate dinner. We eat and talk about school and swim and a dozen things other than the heavy possibility of this dog. I say, we’d have to trim his nails all the time.
So I guess I’m going to meet this puppy today. I’m not sure how I feel about a pit bull. I know they’re sweet when raised in a loving environment. I don’t know if I want a dog. I know five cats who will hate my guts. I don’t know. But I’m going to meet this puppy today.
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- eclaggs said: Do it. Do it. Do it. My pets are a pain, but they bring so much laughter to my house.
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- littleorphanammo said: that was total bullshit. He painted you into a corner and you had no choice. I would be INFURIATED
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- moonlitdirt said: Uh, so not cool. Ambushed, indeed.
- do-over said: And, for the record, I would kick him SO HARD. “Mommy says no.”
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