First, a Marley update. Surgery went well. She's fine...and we're hoping to stop crying over the $1,500 vet bill very soon. I still can't explain how she broke her ear by falling *up* the stairs.
In other news, I had one of the most bizarre Friday nights in recent memory last weekend. And I found out what Jeff really thinks of me.
My brother Scott stopped by to check on Marley early Friday evening, and when I walked him to his car as he was leaving there was a really loud *BANG* from a car driving down our street. A Mercedes had blown a tire directly in front of our house. In true Scott fashion, he acted like cars blowing tires in the street happen every day and he got in his car and left. Nothing flusters that man. Jeff came outside to investigate the noise.
Jeff: Did you just shoot Scott?
LAB: You hear a loud noise and your first thought is that I killed my brother in our driveway?
Jeff: Just answer the question.
LAB: Seriously, what the hell? He's my brother.
Jeff: OK, may be you wouldn't shoot Scott. But don't act like you shooting someone is outside the realm of possibilities.
LAB: *sigh* No, I didn't shoot Scott. Or anyone else. Yet. The Mercedes in the street blew a tire.
Jeff: Cool! Think he needs help?
LAB: I have no idea. Why don't you strap on your cape and your tool belt and go find out.
Jeff helped Mercedes dude change his tire and came back inside.
LAB: What took so long?
Jeff: I had to wait for him to quit peeing.
LAB: WHAT!?!? He was peeing in the neighbor's yard?
Jeff: Nope - in the street.
LAB: That doesn't make it any better. He was really peeing in the street? In broad daylight?
LAB: Was he drunk?
Jeff: Probably. I should have sent you out there. You speak his language.
LAB: I question the wisdom of calling the woman who prepares your food a murderous drunk.
Jeff : I'll take my chances. I figure if you were gonna kill me I'd be dead by now.
LAB: True. What did he say when you caught him peeing?
Jeff: He said "Sorry. I didn't know anyone was behind me."
LAB: That's it? Not "Sorry I'm peeing in your street?"
Jeff: Nope. I don't think he was sorry for that. When a man's gotta go, a man's gotta go.
LAB: Nice. What did he say after you helped him?
Jeff: He looked at my jack and tire iron, said "I've gotta get me some of those!", jumped in his car and took off.
LAB: Wow. That's a lot better than a plain old "thank you".
Jeff: I thought so too.
In summary: My dog is single-handedly wiping out our savings, my street is a urinal and my husband thinks I'm a drunk who is likely to shoot someone in the near future.
That sounds about right.