Earlier I took Pierson to Emergency Road to run, since he's in cross country now. Next thing you know, sisters, dogs, and bikes all jumped in the truck with us and we're toodling through town with windows down and tongues lolling (dogs, not necessarily me).
While the kids are dumb enough to run in this heat, I'm not. In fact, my idea of exercise is watching those Zumba videos. Those are so much fun! I followed behind them in the truck to make sure no one got hurt. Even this was a bit too much exertion for me, as my dear Bubba Wayne Jr. doesn't have air conditioning.
So, you're following me that the windows are down, right? That stupid five pound rat terrier, Scooby, has been yipping his annoying yip since the kids left the truck. "Take me! Take me! Take take take me me me!" Before I could slap the rat out of his terrier, he leaped over me and out the window. Let me make it clear, Bubba Wayne is not pantsy waist truck. He's a 4x4 with a lift kit. Scooby is six inches tall and five pounds of annoyance.
With my awesome reflexes, I grabbed at Scooby as he sailed past my nose, not because I wanted to save him necessarily, but because I didn't want my kids to think I was a Scooby killer. I know they would have thought I chucked him out the window on purpose. And maybe it had crossed my mind, but I'm not admitting to that, okay?
Well, I grabbed something warm and squishy. Teensy tiny Scooby balls. Ewww! In reflex (I swear not on purpose), I flung him far and wide. He hit the pavement and did one of those squishy ball imitations - you know, completely flat, like in cartoons? Then he popped right back up, smiled cheekily at me, and with tongue sticking straight out he took off and did a full-blown Scooby run for the kids.
At the pace those little legs carried him, he caught up with the kids at the finish line. They oohed and aahed over what a superb athlete he was until I pulled up, then all three kids turned to me as one entity. "How could you? He could have died!" Yeah, well, not for lack of trying.
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