Who Needs a Dog?

A few days ago a friend asked me how I was adjusting to California life. I gave the sweet, what you are expecting answer. “Oh, things are wonderful. California is beautiful and the weather is so nice. We have two parks close to us so we have plenty of ‘free’ fun.” As I was talking to my husband about my conversation with my new friend I was a bit more honest. “David, I do love it here. I love our weekends as a family when we go around exploring. But, David, I feel like a dog when you ask, “Is everyone ready?” as we get everything together for the car. I’m so excited to go for a car ride that when I get in I just want to hang my head out the window and shout ‘Hello’ at every stranger.” I felt like this was an excellent description of how I felt. I do not feel neglected, I do not feel lonely, I do not feel really any negative feels about being here. I simply find pleasure and excitement in the weirdest things, which sounds kind of sad really. I started to think of other things that I now find crazy pleasure in that I never really had before. Walking to the mail box, for example. It’s a small walk, but the scenery is absolutely beautiful. Taking out the recycling, organics, and trash is another. This gives me a sense of purpose like I’m one with Mother Earth and I am helping save the planet. Cleaning the house. There is nothing better than having a clean house. I was beginning to think I wasn’t in such bad shape. I’m not so pathetic. I’m good. I’m normal. Then I thought of one more thing that I occasionally do that makes me happy, going to Walmart. That is when it me, I am pathetic. Walmart? Really? *insert wide eyed emoji* And to top it all off, it is not even a Super Walmart, it is simply just an old school, dirty Walmart. I usually run in, smile nicely at the greater who wants me to take a cart, I mean REALLY wants me to take his cart, dodge the dude who wants to sell me a family portrait deal, walk quickly pass the Nathan’s Hotdog stand, grab formula and diapers, cut through the Tweety Bird and Winnie the Pooh outfits made for adult women, and quickly check out. I always get the same cashier. He jokes that my total will be something odd like $500 and I give a courtesy laugh back and say something like, “That sounds about right.” I jump back into my car, plug my home address back into my phone so I don’t get lost, and drive home. Sadly, after dissecting my Walmart runs, it still sounds fun. Sad, I know. Last weekend my husband told me that he wanted to take the kids and me into San Francisco. He jokingly said he would even roll down the window for me. Funny man, huh? I remember as a young adult going to Fisherman’s Wharf and seeing the sea lions. I knew that our four year old would love this. When we got to the Wharf it was so much bigger than I remembered! We must have walked, this is just an estimate, 85 miles! It was honestly so much fun. Our four year old was a champ! He was never carried, kept up with us as we walked and had an all around good attitude the whole day. It was time to eat. What do you eat when in San Fran? Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl, duh! We sat down outside and ordered. I had my chowder but also a tall cold beer. Not because it was a hot day in San Francisco, as we all know that does not even exist, but because it just sounded good. Baby was an angel. He smiled and cooed at everyone and sat on my lap while I ate. Then, the sky fell. Baby started screaming. I asked where the restrooms where and was lead, not directed, lead to the restrooms. I changed baby B who screamed the entire time. When I got back to the table David was signing our check and trying to get our oldest ready to move on. The wind blew and our check disappeared, the baby was screaming, David knocked over his almost emptied soda, and oldest was not helping. Once we finally got everything together, a busser asked me if I was done. I answered jokingly over the screaming baby, “Yes, everything but the beer. Momma needs this beer.” The man let out a loud laugh and sweetly said he thought I was holding it together very well. We struck up a conversation as I tried to quickly down my beer. We got to know each other on a personal level. He has two kids, 3 years, 14 months, and one on the way *chug, chug*. He and his wife have been married for 5 years. *chug, chug* They moved to the San Fran area about a year ago *chug, chug* and have loved it since. All this while my husband is trying to dry off the check, as it ended up in my water, and wrangle our four year old. *chug, chug* I had finally finished and had to say goodbye to my new soul mate. The day was wonderful. We got back into the car to head home. It was super quiet as we were all completely tired (you thought I was going to say “dog tired” to keep with the theme didn’t you? Well, you should have because that would have been creative) and finally letting the blood flow back through our bodies. David looks in the rear view mirror at me and whispers, so as to not wake the two passed out children, “You know, you’re not a dog but you are certainly my best friend.” Heart melted.