I don’t have a food post (or even a running post) for you today because I’m being held hostage by my new puppy, Scout. Well, I guess I should say our new puppy, but let’s be honest: we all know that only one person is picking up poop, making sure she plays well with the other dogs, and doesn’t lick the wall sockets.
Even though this is my fifth dog as a grown-up (me, not the dog), I seem to have forgotten what it is like – exhausting, frustrating, snuggly, joyous and full of a lot of biting. I can’t leave the house without feeling guilty. I wake up every morning in a panic, wondering if the puppy is okay because her silence is so loud it is almost a sound. A puppy should always be making noise, shouldn’t she? And then I am overwhelmed with happiness and relief when I find her wiggling her little nub-tail at me when I go to get her from her crate.
I remember this feeling from when my kids were babies. The feeling of love and guilt and fear and straight-to-the-top-of-your-head giddiness that comes all wrapped up in the little package of drool and poop that stares up at you adoringly or menacingly, depending on his/her level of hunger and your ability to satisfy it. The feeling that makes you feel both miraculously happy and overwhelmed at the same time.
One big difference, though, is that my kids never insisted on dragging my underwear into the living room or gnawing on my expensive leather slides while I was on the treadmill. At least not that I’m aware of.
So, I will try to get back to the food posts soon. I made lobster bisque in school yesterday and thought of y’all. It seems like a dish that might be fun to make for Valentine’s Day so I will try to post the recipe. My partner and I were chosen to make it because we were the only ones in the class not too squeamish to kill the lobster. Not that this has anything to do with my ruined shoes or shredded lingerie (in case someone is reading this who has figured out how to use a computer even though she’s only three months old and doesn’t have opposable thumbs). Just saying.