You know how it is. You're just standing in line at the pet store trying to buy cat litter when an employee begins to amuse the kiddies by eating one of those pink dog Oreos from the doggie bar.
As I'm watching the show, I get a bit concerned that this employee is somehow of my gene pool and might be a long lost relative as his behavior clearly indicates. While I try to figure out what side of the family he looks like, he shares with us that the fuchsia cookies are made out of the same high quality ingredients that one finds in those glow in the dark Halloween Oreos. Genuine trans fats. But, the doggie version costs a tad bit more. So, I stand there and calculate that an Oreo sized package of the things would cost roughly the same as one month's mortgage at a sub prime rate. I continue to stand there and notice a kid who decides he wants to play along. And, remarkably, it isn't my kid. When his mom isn't watching, the kid steals a dog nugget from the doggie bar and pops it into his mouth. Turns out it isn't the equivalent of people nuggets. Just priceless.
Of course, I get giddy by it all and begin to admire the various items that the well dressed dog must have when he goes bar hopping. I have the only logical thought possible - that hat sure would look good on my kid. With a green outfit. And genuine leprechaun boots expertly crafted from his father's dress socks. I revel in the the joy my kid will experience looking back on his first celebration of his Irish heritage and eagerly fork over the $40 dollars or so for the high quality felt cap. And, as is clearly evidenced by the unadulterated joy in his face, it was money well spent.
Of course, I get giddy by it all and begin to admire the various items that the well dressed dog must have when he goes bar hopping. I have the only logical thought possible - that hat sure would look good on my kid. With a green outfit. And genuine leprechaun boots expertly crafted from his father's dress socks. I revel in the the joy my kid will experience looking back on his first celebration of his Irish heritage and eagerly fork over the $40 dollars or so for the high quality felt cap. And, as is clearly evidenced by the unadulterated joy in his face, it was money well spent.
A couple of years go by but clearly due to high quality craftsmanship, the felt hat stands the test of time. This year, I pull it out of the drawer and immediately know that Mia would just be deprived if her brother got to wear the hat for St. Pat's and she didn't. Sibling rivalry being what it is and all. I snap into action, crafting some genuine leprechaun boots out of my brown hiking socks. Mia takes issue with the booties, clearly due to her appreciation for authenticity. She communicates the same to me by pulling the booties off her legs, examining them and then tossing them down the stairs. Seeing how she really respects all things leprechaun just warms the cockles of my heart so I enthusiastically explain the whole St. Pat thing to her and the hat goes on. Mia exhibits her ability to run while simultaneously shaking her head, a quite impressive feat and then raises her hands in praise to show me just how joyful she feels.
I'm sure the kids can't wait for next year.
I'm sure the kids can't wait for next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment