My husband, Aaron, and I try to live our lives as simply and stress free as possible. Sometimes that just doesn't always work. We recently bought a house which was a headache in and of itself. We moved ourselves in and became homeowners. Life was good, it was calm once again. Then we decide to throw a monkey wrench in our otherwise happy life: we adopt a dog from the animal shelter, our 'beloved' beagle named Roy. We should have known it was going to be a fiasco; they didn't have the correct picture of the dog posted, it was listed as a female rather than a male, he definitely is NOT 1.5 years old, he's still too much of a puppy; AND the vet at the shelter put him on a do not adopt list until he had recovered from his kennel cough. Somehow this did not deter us what so ever. I should make the point: we do LOVE our dog…he’s just a hot mess.
Cue Saturday morning: Aaron wakes up to the smell of poo and hot breath in his face at around, oh 6:30 AM. He does not wake from his weekend slumber until around 9:00 AM. He stumbles down stairs and discovers that Mr. Roy pooed on the floor and shredded it to pieces and apparently ingested some of it causing a stain and poo crumbles to be spread throughout our white living room carpet. He continues his Saturday morning mayhem by eating the cat's food and waking the neighbors with his sonic boom of a bark. Aaron was incredibly pleased...welcome to my everyday!
Fast forward to Sunday evening: Aaron and I make a late night run to Taco Bell. As we start the car to back out of our drive way we see our cat, Riley, drag something brown onto our front porch. Upon further inspection we find that he has caught and killed an adult squirrel and is feeding on it like a vampire. What remains is the lower half, a head, and the middle portion of skin...no arms, no innards. He was so proud.
Wake up on Monday morning: Roy has a fat face from eating some sort of bug/being stung by a bug and looks like nothing short of a cartoon. I also get a call from my mom Monday morning and guess who else has a fat face? Apparently my brother, who is currently enrolled at a NCAA Division I school, got punched in the face by a football player at his school which broke his nose. My brother is a pretty peaceful person who tends to diffuse bad situations which was what he was doing while escorting a football player out of an event (non violent affair) when another football player socked him square in the face and broke his nose.
Cue Saturday morning: Aaron wakes up to the smell of poo and hot breath in his face at around, oh 6:30 AM. He does not wake from his weekend slumber until around 9:00 AM. He stumbles down stairs and discovers that Mr. Roy pooed on the floor and shredded it to pieces and apparently ingested some of it causing a stain and poo crumbles to be spread throughout our white living room carpet. He continues his Saturday morning mayhem by eating the cat's food and waking the neighbors with his sonic boom of a bark. Aaron was incredibly pleased...welcome to my everyday!
Fast forward to Sunday evening: Aaron and I make a late night run to Taco Bell. As we start the car to back out of our drive way we see our cat, Riley, drag something brown onto our front porch. Upon further inspection we find that he has caught and killed an adult squirrel and is feeding on it like a vampire. What remains is the lower half, a head, and the middle portion of skin...no arms, no innards. He was so proud.
Wake up on Monday morning: Roy has a fat face from eating some sort of bug/being stung by a bug and looks like nothing short of a cartoon. I also get a call from my mom Monday morning and guess who else has a fat face? Apparently my brother, who is currently enrolled at a NCAA Division I school, got punched in the face by a football player at his school which broke his nose. My brother is a pretty peaceful person who tends to diffuse bad situations which was what he was doing while escorting a football player out of an event (non violent affair) when another football player socked him square in the face and broke his nose.
Which brings me to this point: At what point are athletes held accountable for their actions? It seems like more and more athletes, more specifically football players, are getting more and more out of hand. We have OSU and that debacle, the University of Miami whose boosters are practically funding a prostitution ring for their players, LSU players sending four people to the hospital and that’s just in college. Move our focus to the NFL: Chris Henry dies after a confrontation with his girl friend, Cederic Benson does 20 days in Texas, another player acting like a fool, fighting with his girlfriend, in a local bar; Brady Quinn getting into an altercation shorting after joining the NFL, Michael Vick (enough said)...and the list goes on and on and on. At what point is it enough and when do they grow up?
Side Note: Happy 24th birthday to my wonderful husband!
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