I was at a birthday party when I was 7 and there was a litter of kittens (only a few weeks old) in the yard where we were playing. I told my friend that cats always land on their feet and she didn’t believe me.
Working at the front desk of a real estate office, I get a lot of sales people coming in to pitch to me. This guy was a thick-neck personal trainer from a new gym that was about to open up. He wanted to leave some flyers for the agents, but insisted on writing his name on each flyer before giving them to me. Here’s the exchange we had while he sat and wrote his name 30 times:
Guy:”Real estate offices always hire supermodels. Do you work out?”
(he brought a dog with him)
Me: “Can I pet your dog?”
Guy:”You can pet me if you’re not married.”
Me: I am.
(I should have asked him to leave at this point.)
(He asks me about my dog and it comes up that Toofer has Addisons)
Guy: “I would put my dog down if there was anything wrong with him.”
Me: “He takes one pill a day and he’s totally normal.”
Guy: “Yeah but still. Where did you get him?”
Me: “The pound. We thought he was a border collie, but he surprised us.”
Guy: “Should have bought a purebred.”
This story has way too many levels of fail. It’s like 2 stories in one.
I am terrible at baking. So bad that this story is about boxed brownies.
I mixed up the batter and plopped it into the greased baking pan and thought it looked too thick, so I re-read the directions and noticed that I forgot the eggs. I put the batter back into the bowl, added the eggs, and then put it back into the greased baking pan. I re-RE-read the directions and realized I forgot the milk! GAH! so instead of taking the batter out of the pan again, I just added it directly into the baking pan and mixed it all together. Some of you with even the slightest baking skill can tell how they came out. The oil from the baking pan mixed in when I added the milk. So not only did the brownies fuse with the baking pan on a molecular level, the brownies were oily and completely inedible.
I threw the whole batch into the trash.
The next day was Sunday and I went to church where I taught a 5th grade class. That lesson was about forgiveness and I used my sweet dog as an example. He likes to get into the trash and eat food scraps, but I will always love and forgive him (shut up I’m not great with metaphores). I literally said, “I bet he’s eating whatever’s in there as we speak” as if I couldn’t curse myself any more.
We usually went to my in-laws’ house after church so we stopped by our house, picked up the dog, and went on our way. We didn’t go into the house, we just called the dog out to the car and left–not realizing that he had gotten into the trash and eaten the whole batch of brownies. An hour later the dog had gulped enough pool water while in the backyard to look like he ate a beach ball and started puking brown water all over the carpet.
4 hours and a $200 vet bill later, we finally went home to let our poor puppy pee out the chocolate poison.