I was in line the other day, yes at the grocery store, and there was a father and his young, pink puffy coat wearing daughter. She wandered over to the books, that were conveniently at eye level to her, and pointed to a bright, glittery book titled something like "The Ultimate Sleepover Kit." Her father declined the request to get it and told her to put it on her list to Santa. Then he grabbed a chocolate Santa pop and threw it on the belt. Beep. One stick of sugar purchased. It was immediately handed to the child. "Is this candy?" she asked with excitement. And there it was, yet another parent shutting their child up with candy, a.k.a. baby crack. I wondered if such an act was really necessary. Then I looked at the child's father. He looked worn out. He looked defeated. I began to feel sorry for him. And then decided I should give the guy a break...maybe he just needs a midafternoon respite from the whining, and the "can I, can I, can I?"
Now I know how this man felt, and I will admit I am now guilty of committing a similar act. It's been almost one full week of puppy. There have been early morning pee breaks in the snow, crying for attention, along with sweet cuddles, angelic stares and, well, lots of licking and nibbling. Needless to say, I've gotten a glimpse into the world of parenting a toddler. Although the feeling of caring for someone who is so dependent fulfills a part of you you didn't know existed, there are also occasions where you stop to ponder what you were thinking when you decided to bring this other individual (puppy) into your life. And then those eyes look up with those wrinkles...the little wet kisses cover your face and that puppy smell hits your nose...and you remember.
I had to do some recordings at the TV station only minutes from my home this morning. Afterwards I planned to head to the office, however, it is snowing like crazy outside and I made the decision to just head home and stay in; my company ended up closing at 1:00. Yay, adult snow day! This also means, home alone with pup. She went outside to go dookie and pee, we played...played more...she got excited...continued to keep her excitement and I began to see no end in sight. It was at that moment where I crossed over to a land I'd never thought I'd visit: I reached for her bone, a.k.a puppy crack, and dropped it in front of her. Done. Continuous amusement and gnawing ensued for minutes. It worked. Did I feel guilty? No, not at first. Then I realized I made a selfish decision, and although I'm sure she LOVED having her bone and loved me for giving it to her, I finally took it away. She did a nice job on it. After sniffing for awhile for it she resumed the nipping at my socks.
I still have all my toes, and I've discovered I have a pup that is awesome at fetch at 9 weeks old. It's still snowing filling my view from the window with specs of white, and as I write this last line my pup sleeps quietly in her little den giving us both a much needed cozy winter day break. I think we'll both be ready for playtime, round 2 soon...