The Streetcar Chronicles

This weekend was crazy busy. We had set out our plans for heading out to the ‘burbs on Friday evening. That is, until P decided to throw a wrench into things. S wrote her first thing in the morning to ask if we were still on for dinner. We were all going to K’s place where I would be staying the night and P and S would head back to P’s place where S was staying the night. I would be spending Saturday playing softball in Small-town Ontario and S would be taking the gal pal to her annual vet visit.

P replied back to S asking if we would be having dinner somewhere near her place. S let her know that we would be having a bbq at K’s house. P began to make excuses about just staying home to chill. S was livid, this was yet another instance of P acting very strange and anti-social lately. When S asked what was going on, P remarked that nothing was up, she was just tired and busy and wanted to unwind at home. “We’re all busy, but we make time for each other,” S replied back. “If you’re too tired, I’ll just go home after dropping Liz off.”

“No need to make a big deal out of it,” P immediately got defensive. “Plans don’t have to change just because I want to stay home and relax.”

It took S all of her restraint to not write back something nasty. She refrained and decided not to start WWIII. Eventually, P came around and decided that she would join us for dinner.

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This weekend has been as low key as I expected it would be. Friday night saw a continuation of restless sleep because of our little hellions. Along with the rain and S’s congested nose, neither one of us got a restful sleep.

Our friend the groomer came by on Saturday morning for the pup’s appointments. The little head went up first. She whined and moaned like she usually does through the washing and drying. Her brother was a bit alarmed, he kept guard by the entrance to the kitchen. He was wondering what the hell we were putting his sister through. Fortunately for him, he was put through the same thing right after his sister was done. Although it was mean, S and I enjoyed watching the pups suffer a bit considering all of the sleep they’d made us lose the last few nights.

The pups weren’t the only ones suffering, the groomer was too, especially when she was grooming the little head’s brother. P (his mother) usually takes him to PetSmart where all they do is shave him down. Our friend was finding lots of mats filled with crap (literally). She wanted to shave him down a bit before washing him but the razor couldn’t make it through the fur. I carried him down to the bathtub where he was thoroughly washed. We kept hearing groans from our friend. “Oh man, he stinks so bad!” she cried.

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I’ve written in this blog before about S’s zany antics. There’s her superhuman abilities to guess what people’s stories are, her ability to change a conversation mid-way through a sentence and we all know how she likes to grocery shop when she’s hungry.

This weekend, the zaniness played on. First, there was the farting in front of guests. “Did you fart earlier?” I whispered to her in the kitchen while we tidied up after dinner.

“Yes!” she exclaimed and immediately began laughing. I couldn’t help it, her laugh was infectious and I too began laughing. There we were, two grown women giggling to ourselves in our kitchen over farts.

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