I learned something new about my husband last night: the man can wrap a present. In fact, he can wrap the heck out of it. This week we are all about taking care of business and have a long to-do list to prove it. We knocked off about half of that list last night and I’m feeling a lot less stressed. After we ate dinner we let the puppy out of his crate and commenced Operation Christmas Present Wrap-Up 2007. While Doc chewed on whatever he could get his little paws around Wes and I grabbed our ammunition:
- 2 scissors
- 1 tape dispenser with clear tape
- 1 green Sharpie marker
- 1 package of adhesive gift tags
- 2 rolls of festive wrapping paper
- a whole lot of presents
After arranging ourselves we grabbed and wrapped. I was expecting Wesley’s presents to end up slightly less pretty than mine but I was pleasantly surprised to find that they looked just as nice as mine. His gift tags didn’t have quite the same pretty handwriting but they looked great. It turns out Wesley is a wrapper to be reckoned with. The man’s been holding out on me.
After the presents were wrapped (though sadly not placed under a Christmas tree because we don’t have one. I can’t deal with the millions of needles from a real tree and I’m pretty sure Doc would eat a fake tree and the presents beneath it anyway) we took one look at the puppy and knew. It was go time. He hadn’t been bathed for 2 ½ weeks and he was riper than a squishy brown banana. So, still high from our successful present-wrapping endeavor, we piled all three of ourselves into our miniscule bathroom and gave Doc a very thorough bath. He was so filthy that water barely touched his paws and instantly there was a brown puddle. Ew.
Bathing Doc is a tricky endeavor for all three of us (I do the washing, Wes serves as back-up by offering Doc treats and holding the shower head while I scrub, and Doc does his darndest to stand still and not jump out of the tub and inundate our tiny house with his dirty little bubbles). We survived and now his little bottom is white and fluffy (normally it’s a little matted and tan), and his ears are cleaned, and we’re all a little bit cleaner (Doc likes to pay us back for bathing him by getting us absolutely sopping wet).
Once the puppy was clean, dry, and tired I found myself in possession of a few quiet minutes so I decided to cross one more thing off the ole to-do list: give myself a pedicure. I am not vain about many things. I will go out in public in sweats and without makeup if the circumstances are right. I am OK with wearing my hair in a ponytail every day. I will even wear Wesley’s shoes out on errands if it means that I don’t have to tie up laces.
One thing I will not do, however, is allow my feet to be seen in public without a pretty pedicure. It’s very strange. Owing to the warm weather in Mexico I have the feeling I’ll be showing off my tootsies a lot and I want those piggies to be shiny! So, now they’re lacquered and red, my puppy is clean, my Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am one happy little clam. Albeit a happy little clam who will most likely never be used to make seafood linguine.