I spent Friday evening at the vet with our cat Ducati. I’m thinking I should start a vet tally for each of our pets down below so we can all see what astronomical figures we are paying to keep these four assholes alive. The I’m going to add up all the numbers and sit down with each of them to discuss a reduction in force, because these are tough economic times and while we have done our best to keep things at the status quo, it has come time to make some difficult decisions. We just can’t keep everyone on the payroll.
And, oh my god, you guys I just can’t talk about my cat’s constipation problem with you. I have typed up five paragraphs about it and it took me that long to realize it was a really long story about a cat who won’t shit. I do not want to be one of those people. So to keep it short and to the point, we spent $500 getting Ducati a diagnosis of constipation and after an enema at the vet he wouldn’t poop but then he did when we got home but then it wasn’t enough but then when we brought him back they said he was “empty” and then the question was “where is the rest of the poop?” and then we thought that the dog probably ate it like it was one of those failed NASA recycled poop cookies. Anyhow, I would have preferred to use that money to buy two new living room chairs that were on sale at Kasala, a furniture store that I’ve never been to but for which I saw an advertisement with some cool leather chairs on sale for $199 a piece. Instead, I got cat x-rays and a cat enema and some shit my dog ate.
In other news, this Thanksgiving we’re going to my sister’s house, which has torn from my clutches one of the “100 Things” I’d like to accomplish this year – hosting this particular holiday. No one even asked me if it was okay, I was just told that she was having it. Then I thought – I’ll just have my own. We can compete for guests. That’ll show her! But then she invited people from work, including her boss, and I thought, oh I can’t miss that. I can’t miss an opportunity to humiliate my family in front of new people. I think she wants to make up for the last time she hosted when she made that whole wheat apple pie. Seriously. WHOLE WHEAT apple pie. This will not happen again. I fact, I’m bringing my own pie, just in case. YOU DO NOT FUCK WITH PIE! This is like…holiday rule number 3. The first two are YOU DO NOT FUCK WITH PRESENTS and SOMEONE WILL ALWAYS CRY, PROBABLY ME (because of all the feelings).
Last week I mentioned that the cable company finally shut off the cable they swore they shut off two years ago, so we’ve been forced to do things like “read” and “talk.” Janie decided we were going to spend several minutes before going to bed reading a book together called Mindful Couples. This is not to say we’re in any sort of relationship turmoil. Or we weren’t until Janie started reading the part of the book that talks about “when your wife acts like a bitch.” And you know what? Janie lies. That’s not in the book at all. Especially not near the part of the book that talks about how “Janie is a doody.” Haha, Janie. TAKE THAT. So we got to page 3 before we stopped to spend an hour discussing what we find most frustrating about one another, like how Janie is defensive about everything I ever say, even if I’m just saying thank you for cleaning the kitchen and she yells at me, “ARE YOU SAYING I AM BAD IN BED?” and how I disregard all the words coming out of her mouth all the time, especially when they’re wrong, which is always.
We had a really good conversation and I realized that a large part of what makes our relationship so terrible awesome is that we end almost every talk or fistfight heated discussion with laughter. Someone calls someone a dirty whore and we laugh and laugh and laugh until Gus gets so excited about all the laughter that he jumps up on us and accidentally slips Janie the tongue. And you probably think I’m exaggerating and unless you are my mom, I want to tell you that this is actually very true. (Confidential to my mother: It’s not true. We end every fight or discussion with “I love you” and a healthy snack, usually carrots or an apple.) One day, many years from now when we have raised the children I am incapable of conceiving and they become incapable of conceiving children of their own, Janie and I will be in a retirement community and our elderly neighbors will be shocked and horrified as we end each night calling one another offensive names and laugh until our teeth fall out.