Here’s the scenario: It’s a typical Monday, except this Monday has no end in sight because Tim is on a business trip. I’ve been running around all day and now I’ve just finished taking our dog Coco (the oldest and fattest of our dachshunds) to the vet because she has badly injured her neck and is quivering in pain. I swore that I would never take Auggie with me to the vet again after the time he shoved my car key into my ear canal while I contemplated Coco’s fate the last time we were in this predicament. That really hurt. Even the vet was like, ‘Wow. That looked like that hurt.’ But some things just can’t be avoided, I guess.
Needless to say, the vet didn’t tell us anything new about Coco’s situation. Just medicate and keep her still. If you knew Coco and what a go-getter she is (she isn’t), you know that this will not be a hard proposition.
Anyway, we’ve got about 30 minutes before we’re heading to my League meeting (which I am not leading, thankfully), so I give Auggie the choice of reheated leftovers at home or Wendy’s. Big surprise — he goes for the Wendy’s. We procure the Wendy’s, and as I prepare to drive away, the drive thru guy looks at me (no makeup, haven’t combed my hair since 10 a.m., 6 months pregnant, wedding ring clearly visible) and says, ‘I know you’re a Mom and all, but I think you’re really cute.’
I drove away with the biggest grin on my face.