articles

Macaroni Dad

'Cause Dads Love Macaroni, Too!

September 19, 2014
In The Dog House

Dearest Macaroni Wife,

I am worried. I am worried about us. I know this comes as a shock to you, especially since you have symbiotically formed into one with your little rolling chair and your fingers have transcended into your keyboard. We’ve both been working too much and it’s taking its toll. Remember when we used to dance and sing and play and skip around the block and look at each other like we were 30 something and we had it all in front of us? Now a great deal of it is behind us and we just need to remember how to reclaim what we lost. I haven’t always listened as well as I should have, but now I am reading you loud and clear. Now more than ever, I understand.

I have finally assimilated what you have been trying to tell me all along. It’s not about the socks on the floor or the toothpaste cap in the toilet or the way I leave clothes in the washer and dryer for days. It’s not that I drip water all over the dry dishes, make pyramids out of beer cans (Beeramids), or wipe boogers under the couch cushions all the time. I get it now that you have been sending these messages all along and I have been too dense to hear it. I am sorry I neglected us and I have been saying for too long that I would make it up to you. I think you have waited long enough.

I know what we need. We need something special, something just for us.

You may be thinking, “Yeah Baby! We need a cruise or a week on the shores of white sandy Bimini.” Just you and me and cold umbrella drinks and a moment alone with our toes in the sand. Maybe you are thinking we need to reconnect with one another and remember how we fell in love in the first place. Perhaps you are thinking about you and I walking together hand in hand on the beach while the 90 degree, crystal clear water splashes against our ankles and the sun sets over mountains and palm trees as we walk back to our beach cottage to dine on an open-fire cooked meal of grilled filet and seasoned vegetables while drinking a velvety red wine and listening to the waves splash the shore as we doze off to sleep in each other’s arms. Indeed, these things might give us ‘temporary’ reprieve and keep us both from having nervous breakdowns, but those are just band-aids on the real issues. I know what we really need to save us, we need another family sized adventure.

As your loving husband, I understand what it is I must do. I am only sorry I didn’t intervene sooner.

Close your eyes. What do you see?

You see fur and dog saliva all over the floor. You see a big dumb animal standing on the couch, barking and wagging his tail and shredding your favorite throw pillows while you scream and swing at him with a broom. You see yourself cradling your noggin and lying on your back on the floor, giddy and gurgling while an overgrown canine tongue licks your eyes, ears, nose, mouth, throat in a showing of genuine concern intended to heal your hurts because you slipped in a puddle of dog spit and banged your head. You see yourself getting up at 6:00AM on a lazy holiday weekend to take our goliath sized Labrador Retriever (and his friends) out for a morning poop and breakneck sprint around the block. You see yourself napping on the couch on a Sunday afternoon with the hot breath of a 94 pound animal spooned up against you to make you feel loved, warm and snuggly.

I didn’t even realize it baby. The fur, the drool, the slobber, the floating hairs landing on every scrap of clothing we own and the teeth marks up and down the legs of the dining room table didn’t come to us by chance. The times we had to jump in the car and run down the block to reclaim our muddy canine friends only to bathe them until the sun went down so that their completely shiny- clean, soft yellow coats could be immersed again the following day in a different stinky, cesspool- swamp-water filled canal behind someone else’s house. The trials and tribulations and moments of anguish that those dogs put us through wasn’t an inconvenience, it was crafted by design... and it was the glue that held our family together. It was a test...and we passed with flying colors.

You don’t even have to say it. I love you enough to know what you’re thinking and by the time you read this I will be on my way back from the shelter to surprise you with two and maybe even three new best friends. If one dog could do so much for this family, imagine what sort of cataclysmic-euphoria four dogs might bring to our warm little home. Maybe three – Maybe four?!? I don’t know either - we’ll be equally surprised together when I get home! We deserve this baby - this is our time.

Are you smiling? Are you as excited as I am? I know - You’re welcome.

P.S. – I used your business account to order a palate of dog food and 4 new memory foam, orthopedic canine friendly slumber pads. The guy at the shelter said at least 2 of them were house trained.

RETURN TO THIS ISSUE'S HOME PAGE

Weekly Recurring Features


Macaroni Dad | Upcoming Walks/Runs | Macaroni Pets of the Week | Kids Eat Free (or cheap) in Martin County