Some of you may remember our wondrous dog, Farley. If not….Perhaps I should direct you to Farley the Wonder Dog, vol. 1, parts 1 and 2. Be my guest.
Today, it’s official, Farley is on Prozac. To some, this has been delaying the inevitable. To others, (ahem…RICARDO) this is ridiculous. “He’s a DOG.” Right. Farley has been in our lives for 9 years. And I think I can speak for my entire family, as well as many friends, and some one time only acquaintances, thanks to Farley, that indeed, is not merely just a dog. This coming from the same guy who snuggles up to the pooch every day. The dog, not my stomach. Farley spoons Ricardo every night while physically defying anyone to get between them. It’s their special time.
I took Farley to the vet today for his check up. Dr. found a sebacious cyst, explained it was full of nasty stuff, then proceeded to make it ooze. It reminded me of popping a big ol zit and the nasty popping out right on to the mirror. I think Dr. thought it was fun. We have to keep an eye on that to make sure it doesn’t abcess. Super.
Then Dr. mentioned how old and fat I was. Woops, I mean Farley. He mentioned how old and fat farley was. He’s weighing in at 116 lbs. Down three from last year. YAY FARLEY! It’s always fun to watch someone else get weighed.
We chatted a bit about Farley, and what to watch out for, and that’s when he noticed his spot on his leg. It was bloody as Farley, just like his name sake, doesn’t quite know his limits and when to stop, in this case, licking at a sore. Dr. reviewed his charts and noted that the sore, the open nasty sore, has been there since we’ve been seeing him. That’s 3 years, folks. 3 years, he’s had an open wound. Some days it’s worse than others. Some point it out. “Oh, that, yeah, he licks a lot.”
That’s when Dr. hits me with, “We really need to stop that.” As if I’m the one licking Farley’s leg. I laugh it off, and the doctor says, “Uh, no, it’s pretty bad.” And that’s when he tells me my options which is sour apple spray (been there, done that, didn’t work…he licked it off), or Prozac. Really? Prozac?
“Yeah, it’s the same thing as what you should take.” Fine, he didn’t really say that. He said, “It’s just like what adults take.” And then looked at me like I should totally be familiar with this drug. I’m not, for the record.
So, now, just like his namesak, Farley is on drugs. Sweet. Dr. goes and calculates Farley’s weight, and then comes back with a bottle of gold…the prozac.
“So, if it’s just like for adults, I could take this?” I say.
“Yes.” he says.
I show an evil and fulfilled grin.
“BUT YOU SHOULDN’T” he says.
Fine. But I now have options.
I write the check, and drop the pills in my purse. And it occurs to me that maybe I shouldn’t get pulled over on the way home. That would be awkward. “It’s my dogs Prozac. I SWEAR!”
That’s how I roll.

Just fyi…if anyone knows anyone in Kansas City…Us local Omaha Comedians are going out to Stanfords tomorrow night for open mic. Please come see us, if you can! We’d love to bring in a big crowd and suck up to the owner…because it’s not how funny you are, it’s how many people you bring in. Yay! Tell them I sent ya.
Stanfords Open Mic
Kansas City
8p.m., Tuesday
I’ll let y’all know how I do. And I’m sure the road trip with the 20_something boy comics (I’m taking the kids in the minivan) will evoke tons of blogworthy content!
That’s how I roll.

Just when you think you’ve got them all taken care of….
I drove by a Wendy’s the other day. My beloved Wendy’s. Who was the last of my fast food options to offer healthy choices. I’m not taking those choices. I’m just sayin, I have options there. The Wendy’s sign said:
The NEW Baconator
Careful
It senses fear
OMG. Did that just say a burger senses fear? Fear of what? A heart attack? We’re talking food, right?
That’s how I roll.

…Someone knows they can use this description and you’ll get it:
A friend of mine was giving me directions to her new home. Nevermind that they moved because they acquired a 3rd car and didn’t have enough room in a three_car garage, so they built a bigger home with a 4 car garage. Never mind that. I’m just jealous.
So, she’s giving me directions and at the end of the directions, and she says, “We’re the baby_poop_green house.”
The pause must have suggested I questioned this color. And it did. I was in a panic, trying to remember the color tone of baby poop. It’s been a while. But she caught on and to help me out, she continued, “It’s breastfed baby poop green. NOT formula or solid food baby poop green.”
Oh good. Found it!
That’s how I roll.

Some of y’all have been wondering where I’ve been, I’m sure. The mass fan mail suggests that I get it together. So does my mother, my husband, the dog, and the children. So just get in line, y’all.
It turns out, that kindergarten keeps me busy. I have two teachers to keep up with, and thus, twice the homework. The first week of class, I forgot to send an assignment. The second week, I got in the car to run some errands and noticed Max’s lunch bag was still in the car, the poor kid had no lunch that day. Today, I forgot to send them with show_n_tell, so I took them up later. And in a feudal effort to compensate for lack of participation in my own early childhood schooling, I have opted to volunteer in my kids’ classes. I’m just waiting to get fired. Fired from volunteering, that’ll be a low point. But for now, they still let me in the school.
With all of that said, there’s some points I’d like to bring up about KINDERGARTEN and school now a days.
Back in my day, the biggest concerns were getting a hold of atleast one swatch, a cabbage patch doll, and hoping you don’t get a call from the school about your kid.
Yesterday, I saw a girl, probably 4th or 5th grade wearing the cutest outfit, accessorized with a scarf and jewelry and the cutest slingback kitten heels. What the hell just happened?
I now correspond with both teachers, pretty much daily, via email.
The library is supplied with IMacs, about 40 of them. Today, the kids worked on the computer in their classroom, a laptop.
Last week, I went to pick up the kids and saw a kid, with a mohawk, talking on his cell phone.
On the first week of school, a diagram of the parking lot and how it all rolls was sent home. I laughed that they actually drew a diagram. Until I studied it. I was breaking 4 major school trafic pick up laws. I wonder if I’ll get ticketed for it, or if my kids will just be judged for it..hmm.
My first week of school went something like this:
Day One Goals: Mow the lawn, finish laundry, figure out what “dusting” means…maybe google it or something.
Day One Reality: Mowed lawn, started laundry…still finishing it, and never really opted to up my dusting game.
Day Two Goals: Cook again.
Day Two Reality: I cooked 5 meals while rocking out to loud 80′s music in our stereo. Just because I could.
Day Three: Hone in on my “Who wants to be a millionaire” skillz.
Day Three reality: I like Meredith Viera on Millionaire, but for some reason, the only one on the Today show I can stomach is Ann Curry. Tried to figure out what that smell in Max’s room was.
Day Four: Continue on the mission to find the smell in Max’s room.
Day Four Reality: Never found it. Cleaned carpets.
And so on and so forth. I’m staying busy, and yet can’t find the time to clean or workout. Life is good.
That’s how I roll.