Goofy Days


I struggled to get started today… weird clouds covered the pinks and purples of a Dallas dawn as I stumbled through walking the dog.  I think I mentioned before, I believe, that our goofy dog (who fortunately does not wear a hat and drive a car, so she is not a Goofy dog) has become a record-setting poop factory, pooping out five times a day and producing what I suspect is actually five times her own weight in doggy poo in a single day.   If only it were worth money!  I felt ill with an acrobatic stomach doing inner flip-flops while trying to transport twenty pounds of poop to the trash can.  My arthritis made my joints crackle and walking was a total pain.  But I made it.  I walked the dog… deposited the poop…made breakfast for two kids… eggs for one, sausage for the other (I am not so much a dad as I am a short-order cook at breakfast time)… I avoided talking about religion or politics… I dropped them both off at school… and then I went back to bed.   I woke up in time to hop in the car again and pick them up from their early release day.  And on early release days they don’t feed the kids even though they don’t release them until after the noon hour.  So rather than cook again… Taco Bueno!  It is overpriced and really bad for you… especially with an upset stomach… but, hey, we didn’t have much food left in the pantry anyway.  So, in spite of feeling like sudden death by heart attack would be a blessing… I made it through the morning of a weird and wacky, goofy, goofy day.  And now my work for the day was nominally done.  So I sat down and tried to think of a post for this blog.  (44 days in a row with at least one post, you know)  No luck.  I couldn’t think of anything to write.   And my schedule of ideas took way to much work to use on a goofy day.  So, I took a picture of my toys… some of them… and tried to tell myself that I could turn that into a worthy post.  The evidence is clear, however… I most certainly could not.



Filed under goofiness, humor, photo paffoonies

2 responses to “Goofy Days

  1. Ah, who decides what is worthy and what is not? You wrote it and published it, and I read it, so that counts for something! 🙂

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