Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The wholesome snack that smiles back until you bite their heads off

One of the refugees we hosted this weekend from the 100-degree weather during DC's derecho-induced blackout was a furry four-legged friend:
image shamelessly stolen from his human-mama's Facebook stream

Also arriving to our house via refugee status was some frozen meat. And some not-so-much-any-more frozen meat, too, the condition of which found a bunch of us enjoying some lovely Sunday evening steaks.

Sweet Mr. G is in his two-year-old glory phase. He's having a language explosion, he's fascinatingly large, and he eats like he's bottomless. Two-year-olds are awesome when they're not tantrumming. So he got right in on 5pm's Steak Fest, a fork and a spoon both squeezed in one grubby little fist as he used the fingers of his other hand to shove juicy steak cubes up his face. He was one happy boy. Pantsless, too, and if you just imagine the burbling steak-juice backwash that pooled across his thighs in a frenzy of carnivoric joy, you're still not painting a greasy enough picture of happiness.

(I'm sorry, vegetarian friends, for the above paragraph. Please try to forget it ever happened. I know G is trying to do so.)

I think G just left the table when he was full. The house was a little chaotic and we were sort of eating in shifts and he wasn't there, after a while, which was fine, because he was playing, and some other kids were eating, and those oven fries were finally hot and-

-and then there was a piercing scream from the family room. And as I looked up to see that sweet dog lick G's thighs, G looked up, too, to a dog that from G's seated floor position was taller than he. G's looking up was dog heaven, because forget the thighs! The dog stepped forward, G leaned back and screamed, and the wouldn't-harm-a-fly dog licked every last morsel of steak juice off of G's face faster than I could cross the floor to separate them.

So now G has taken to exhorting, whenever he sees that dog or hears the word 'dog' or sees an image of a dog in a picture book: Mama! You no let Declan** eat me!! Declan NO EAT ME!


As of this morning there were still more than a million people in the DC area without power. As I type we're under another severe-thunderstorm-with-possible-hail-and-damaging-winds warning. And it's supposed to be in the mid- to high-90s for the rest of the week. Keep sending your good thoughts.


**Dog name has been changed to protect the kissy-faced opportunist innocent.
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