The Cone of Shame

This weekend The Husband nobly volunteered to go do the weekly grocery shopping run. I haven't been sleeping well for a host of reasons and have caught a cold to boot. I am rather crabby. I jotted the list of necessities and made sure to inform him that we were moving on to stage 2 baby food. (Little Man refuses to eat my homemade baby food and I have decided that its abundantly easier to buy the tiny jars and not fight a little baby's demands) I specifically told The Husband to "pick up a smattering of flavors." I then sent him on his way and promptly took a nap that ended up to be 10 minutes in length. (ugh)

Upon his return, I started putting all the groceries in their proper place. A conversation ensued:

Me: Ummm, where's the rest of the baby food?

The Husband: Well, those are two-packs!

Me: That's it? You got three packages of baby food?

The Husband: Yeah! Why?

Me: Dude. You do understand that the baby eats three times a day, right? That means this will last for TWO DAYS.

The Husband: Oh.

Me: Two green beans and a peach? I said a smattering! As in- variety!

The Husband: Well one of those green beans has rice in it! The other one doesn't.

Me: Oh, ok. Great. So... I guess I'm going back to the store in two days?

The Husband: (shrug) Sorry.

Me: (glare)

The Husband: Well! I didn't know what "smattering" meant!

Me: Well, it certainly doesn't mean two green beans and a peach!

I wish they made these for humans:

Maybe the threat of the Cone of Shame would compel him to ask what "a smattering" means?

To top our weekend off, I found myself in the Pet ER in the middle of the night. Peaches started sonic-boom-yipping. This has only happened once. The last time, her butt exploded... and it was happening again. After the nurse looked at Peaches' hind quarters she asked, "Just how long has it looked like this?!" I had to explain that I had three year old twins and a baby. Any slightly odd behavior of the canine variety doesn't even fly onto the radar. Thankfully, she understood and nodded in reverence. 

So anyway, her abscess was drained, three medications prescribed, and we were out way past my bedtime. There have been lots of warm compresses too. If I have to sit with my hand on the dog's butt one more time...  Except today Peaches is crying. I would be crying too if I had what looks like a shoelace strung up my butt. I wish I could give her more pain medication. The vet has confirmed that I cannot. Poor thing. 

Later the next night, Squirt vomited all over the couch. This answered a question posed by The Husband after his monumental trip to the grocery store. That is exactly why we don't have hot dogs for dinner more often. 

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