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“It was Ted E. Ruxpin.” Caleb laughs before both hands fly to his mouth.
“Mom? Why is your dog here?”
“He had a bad day, dear. He had to get his shots at the vet, and he’s been a wreck ever since.”
“Mom, he’s always a wreck,” I blurt. My mother’s tiny wire-haired, tan dog, was named after a childhood toy I’d owned because they could practically double as twins. This dog has issues. He’s afraid of his own shadow. I thought she’d stopped bringing him here after the neighbor’s dogs nearly gave him a stroke. The pup will literally pee at the drop of a hat. You’d think, as small as his bladder is, he’d be a one and done. But every time he gets nervous, he dribbles.
“I’ll clean up the floor. You go and get a shower.”
“Why not? Fourth time’s the charm.” It’s been that kind of day.
“What?”
“Oh, never mind. I’ll go get cleaned up and then start spaghetti.”
Caleb races back over, stopping abruptly before picking up his socked feet to inspect them.
“I think you made it, baby.”
“Just checking. Gross.” He scrunches up his face. “Is Gammy making spaghetti?” he asks while simultaneously clapping his hands.
“No, Caleb. I have to meet my bridge group tonight.”
My son’s face visibly falls.
“Hey, I’m not that bad.”
His eyes spring wide like I’ve forgotten who he’s talking to. Okay, so I’m not the best cook in the world. But until they can feed themselves, they need to face it. Most days, I’m all they’ve got.
Myla comes into view, rocking Truitt. I swear she’s the baby whisperer.
“Hey, didn’t you have that appointment with the pediatric orthopedist today? I forgot to ask. What did he say about Tru not walking?”
I laugh. “He said he was fast enough on all fours, so he’s probably not motivated to walk. He took some x-rays and said everything looked fine. When I looked worried, he said,Oh, don’t worry, Mama. Some kids just do that.”
“Well, that was helpful. That visit probably cost you over five hundred dollars. Thank goodness you have health insurance.” Mom lifts the bucket of warm water from the sink and walks over to where piddle pup is shaking like a leaf.
“Can’t you put a diaper on him? This is getting ridiculous.” What’s ridiculous is how often I’ve been covered in poop, vomit, and pee today. “I’m going upstairs to clean up. I’ll be back soon.”
“Alright, Jilly. Don’t be long. I’ll start boiling the water for your pasta.”
A little over ten minutes later, I return to the main floor to find the everything cleaned up and water is on the stove. My mother is a saint. I open a jar of spaghetti sauce and pour it into a saucepan and preheat the oven for the bread.
“Myla, do you have any homework?”
She shakes her head.
“She does it on the school bus,” Caleb belts out as he chases Ted E. around the dining room table.
“Okay, honey.” Mom bends to scoop up her cowering canine. “We’re going to head out.” She leans forward to kiss me on the cheek, but instead I get a face full of Ted E. Ruxpin’s tongue.Gah, this dog.
“Thank you for picking up Truitt at daycare today. After the day I had, I might’ve forgotten he was there.” I leave out that I was almost half of the way home before I panicked thinking I’d left him. It wasn’t until I’d turned around to head back that Iremembered Mom was going to get him after Ted E.’s veterinary appointment.
The oven beeps, and I rush back over to place the pan of garlic bread inside and check the sauce. See, I can do this.
“Oh, can you get Ted E.’s food out of the fridge?”
“Uh, what?”
