I’m cleaning this morning. Every time I march outside with more garbage or recycling, the dog greets me with his ball in his mouth as I come back in. It’s clear from his prancing around and his ears up that he REALLY wants Mama to go outside and play with him….... now!
Hank provides a lot of comic relief in our house. As I reflected on that, I remembered some other moments of comic relief, canine and non-canine. It’s moments like these that bring a smile to your lips when the rest of life seems to be a bit too thick for comfort.
Hank on the back steps, excitedly anticipating a ride in the car with us:
Catherine: “Sorry, pup, but you cannot go this time.”
Hank looks straight at me for a long moment, heaves an ENORMOUS sigh, turns around and walks back into the house.
Question: Does our dog understand English?
Heard while riding in the car with a 16 year old who was clearly daydreaming:
Tim: “What do you think, Darren, should we stop and get some lunch?”
A moment of silence, and then, from the back seat: “What do you mean?”
A discussion about a morning’s proposed activity:
Catherine: I really feel underwhelmed about that
Doug (all of 5 years old): We can get you whelmed up, Catherine!
(I still marvel that his 5-year old mind got the sentence sense exactly right, even though there is no such phrase as “whelmed up.”)
In the car, passing the gargantuan picture window of a very busy, very fancy, and very well-lit restaurant one night:
Abbi (all of 4 years old): Look at all those people DINING!
And the most recent was this one, when I came home from a long business trip:
Catherine: “The floors are actually crunchy underfoot. Couldn’t you have vacuumed once while I was away?”
Tim: “I didn’t bring the dirt in, the dog did.”
(I confess, at the time I didn’t think this was funny, but the more I consider Tim’s completely serious answer, the funnier it gets.)