Dog Bowl

All of my kids have chores of some kind to do. The three oldest rotate between doing dishes (well, loading and unloading the dishwasher, this isn't a sweat shop, although if you ever heard my kids bitch, you might wonder) and trash. Man, you would not believe the amount of trash we put out in a week, mostly diapers and what-not (hence the name, "Screaming Diapers" - Hey, I see what you did there, you are surely thinking, because you're smart like that. Yeppers...anyhoo...chores.

My 4 year old is finally old enough to participate in chores, and she's still young enough to think it's fun! She'll learn, but it won't be for months and months yet, so I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts. There aren't many chores a four year old can do well, so traditionally in our household, the youngest child gets the dog food. I do this for another reason as well - I have assertive dogs, and they don't fuck with the one that feeds them.

I started this when my youngest son was about three because our Rottweiler absolutely hated him. See, the Rottie and my youngest son were only about six months apart (the dog was older.) When they were both a little over a year, they had an "interaction" that scarred both of them for life, and defined their relationship for the next 8 years. It started one sunny day, where the dog was lying on the floor in a sun beam, snoring loudly and chasing shit in his sleep, kicking his paws for all his worth. My son was sitting there playing with his toys and then decided to pull on the dog's ears. I was right there! Now, our Rottie was well-trained, and put up with it, but before I could catch him, the baby crawled on the dog's nuts. Yep. He crawled on his nuts, and the dog yelped loudly and painfully, and bit my son, then got the fuck away from the littlest nutcracker. (No, it didn't even leave a mark, he was trained very well. The dog, not the child.) Honestly, I couldn't even really yell at the dog (much) because, well, if someone had stepped on my nuts (if I had any) I might have bit him too. And, I'll mention it again, he didn't leave a single mark on the child! If there hadn't been dog slobber on his arm, I would have thought he just snapped at him. God, I miss that dog.... And so does my honey, it was the only dog he actually liked.

Well, my Rottie was severely traumatized, and never, ever, ever fucking forgot it, and never let my youngest son forget, either. Every single time my son went near the dog, he would jump up, bark, growl, and generally scare the shit out of the boy. (It worked kind of well actually, because this is the only child who never got into the fridge at night, probably because the minute he left his room, the dog tattled on him by barking loud enough to wake me up. God, I really miss that dog...) Anyway, in the interest of making sure my Rottie never forgot his training and decided that biting him would absolutely be worth it, my son was the one assigned to feed him.

I liked the idea so much, I use it with every child and every dog. Every morning after she eats, my pre-schooler gets the dogs' dishes, turns on the light, opens the closet door and scoops the food into the dishes. And every morning, she asks how many scoops, and every single morning, I tell her the same thing: six scoops in the big bowl, four scoops in the blue bowl, then put the dog bowls back, close the closet door and turn off the light. Of course, every morning recently, she asks which one is the light. Really? Well, I can outlast you honey. The middle one.

This morning, she told me she can't. "Can't what, honey?" I asked. (I'm making my coffee, and not really paying much attention. Mmmm, coffee....)

"There's no dog food, Mommy! Oh, no!" (I should market this dramatic rendition, it would sell millions.)

"Ok, go ahead and get your sippy cup then, and we'll get dog food later." I tell my honey that we're out of dog food, and he told me there's some in his van. He was playing the Xbox, so I went and got it, carried the 40 pound bag into the house, opened it, and dumped it in the dog food tub. That shit is heavy!

Just after I finished throwing away the empty dog food bag, she showed back up, asking for more chocolate milk. She asked me, rather suprised, "How did you get more dog food, Mommy?"

"Well, Daddy got it at the store, honey."

"Just now?" she said with awe.

Riiiight... So I tell her, somewhat sarcastically, "Yeah, honey, he got his shoes on, drove really fast, got dog food, and came back! All within the time it took you to drink your drink."

Sarcasm might be a little over her head, though drama is not: "Oh, thank you, Daddy! You're the best Daddy ever!" and she kissed him, hugged him, and went back in to play.

Her dad asked what that was for, and I told him, "For getting the dog food."

"But you got the dog food, why did she..?" he asked.

"Never mind," I told him. Next on the toddler agenda: learn sarcasm!