Of Course He Did…
We have a dog.
His name is Kevin.
He’ll be 2 in May.
So he’s still a pup.
A 70 pound pup.
When we went to the vet about 2 months ago, he weighed 66.6 lbs.
That’s the Devil’s number, my friends.
I have never smelled the farts of the Devil, but I imagine the farts of Satan himself could not be much worse than the farts of Kevin.
They were so bad yesterday, I told the Twitters, “So. Our dog, Kevin… Did he eat a SKUNK or is he farting death itself?”
Lucy told me later he ate all her lunch.
Yeah. That’s ahahahahawesome.
Fast forward to the evening… minutes before the Huz got home. I was up in my room/office searching for pictures. A bit of a deadline was pressing my attention. So when the kids yelled, “KEVIN THREW UP!!! ON THE CARPET! A LOT!!!”
I said to me, “Well. It’s not like I turn back time. I can’t make him un-vomit on the carpet…I’ll just attach this photo to this email…”
MOM!!! KEVIN THREW UP AGAIN!!!!
Whu? Huh? The heck?
Literally, that was all that went through my head before they yelled,
HE JUST DIARRHEA’D IN THE KITCHEN!!!!!!
I run downstairs to find Olivia (8) crying because she thinks Kevin is going to die. Almost immediately I start gagging because the volume of vomit on my carpet rivals that of an OIL TANKER.
Oh yeah – AND THE SMELL!
I hurried to get Kevin outside. Pulled my sweatshirt over my mouth and grabbed a roll of paper towels. I covered the piles of goopy-death-stench as one would lay a blanket over a corpse.
It was all just so very awful.
The stench was only getting worse, so I had the kids open every door possible – all the while I gagged. I in a manner I never knew possible.
And then Olivia started crying even HARDER…
Because apparently now she thought, what with all of MY gagging, that her mother was now going to die!
Within minutes, the Huz pulled up to the house from work, and the kids all ran out… Olivia in tears, the other two begging their dad,
DON’T GO IN THERE! KEVIN THREW UP ON THE ENTRY, THE CARPET, THE BACK PORCH AAAAAAAND WENT DIARRHEA IN THE KITCHEN!!!!!!!
So. Paul comes in the house. Finds his beloved bride, in full gag. Gag. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG… He immediately starts helping with the mess. And then yelled at me,
I CAN’T DO THIS WITH ALL THAT GAGGING. YOU NEED TO LEAVE.
So I went back to my room and finished sending my email…
Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…
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