Melinda Morley

 (This is John. Don’t let the smile on his kisser fool you.)

Today I was trying to think of a great blog. I mulled over recent events, but none were particularly funny or interesting. At least not at the moment. Little did I realize that a real blog moment was about to take place. In Petsmart. Of all places. Here’s how our story went.

 Sunday Morning:

Sarah (10): Um, the other kids have been feeding the dog for awhile… and so… I didn’t know… that the dog food… was running out… and now… it is all gone.

Ken:Feed him cat food.

Me thinking: Can dogs eat cat food? It seems so wrong.

Monday Morning:

Sam and John(6&4):Mom, we should buy more cat food for Porter, he loves it!!!

Me thinking: Well, what do you know?

After gymnastics we went to Petsmart to buy some dog food. For our dog that loves cat food.

At the Store: 

John: Mom, I’m thirsty and hungry.

Me: Me, too. Hey, I have your granola bar in my purse. (I was prepared!!!)

John, middle name Monkey, climbs out of the cart and starts hitting my purse.

Me: What do you say? (Trying Love and Logic) Try it again…I only hear nice voices. (I am oh, so, sweet and patient.)

John starts to freak.

Me:I think it’s time to go home. (Beeline for the cash register, internal weather service forecasts a level four on the horizon. -I’ve just got to pay for the dogfood.)

John’s air pressure starts to build. I try to distract him with the cute little doggies getting groomed. And look at the funny reflective collars. And Nothing is Working!!!

It is now a squall and people are headed for cover. As I frantically try to scan my card and type my PIN number, John is taking swings at me and pushing the cart into unsuspecting old ladies. The Cashier is laughing because she has 5 boys of her own and doesn’t this look familiar. However, it is NOT funny to me. I try to hold John’s arms down so that he will stop hitting and scratching and being destuctive and wondering what other people are thinking as they watch my child/creature in disbelief.

They are probably thinking: “Maybe she should enroll him in the obedience classes Petsmart offers.”or “Is he foaming at the mouth?” or “If that were my kid, I’d take him to the ground and show him who the Alpha dog is in that family.” At the very least least they were thinking, “I am so glad that child isn’t mine, I’ll stick with pets.”

Then, as I finally paid for the food, I picked up John and practically threw him in the cart and he literally lept back out like the cougarish animal on Ghost Busters. The audience, yes, I had an audience now, gasped in awe at either (A) his amazing agility and prowess or (B) in horror that he was free and might start hurting someone.

Head for the cellar, folks, the tornado has touched ground!

I wrangled him into to another hold and he scratched violently and then he bit me. hard. I was shocked and withdrew a bloody stump. Okay, not a stump, but I was bleeding!

Now I had adrenline. I pinned him to the outside wall and tried to get him to calm down.

Didn’t work.

I threw him in the cart for the second time and ran for the suburban -too fast for him to even think about diving out again.

And now, hours later, I feel a little drained. But (after lunch and a nap)that boy planted a sweet one right on my cheek and… how I love that boy.

But I am never taking him to Petsmart again. ever.