I'm-A-Bite-Chu

This morning I watched my mother wrestle our dog, Bailey, around the living room for a good twenty minutes over a Caffeine Free Diet Coke can she found on the front lawn until the dog was just so plain fed up over the struggle that she growled threateningly at my mother from beneath the coffee table, causing her to scream out in frustration and put the dog directly into her kennel, Coke can and all. I think she even said something like "Tell your internal organs to enjoy that tasty shredded metal treat YOU EVIL GOAT" and then spent the next half an hour furiously vacuuming the kitchen.

My mother vacuums when frustrated. Well, that and drinks but we won't really go there.

This is not the first time one of our dogs has threatened to bite us over something menial either. Barney will growl at you if you scratch his tender spot on the side of his belly too hard. Don't you dare try and go under the coffee table into their 'secret lair' of destroyed Kong Wubba toys and rawhide because you'll come out missing fingers. In fact, don't even approach the coffee table too quickly or tell them that the Shamwow is, in fact, NOT theirs because they get possessive of such things.

So while all of this madness is going on at my house, I go to work last week with the best possible outlook you can have when dealing with ten one year olds on a daily basis. It looks something like "Poop! Let's hear it for more poop! Creamed peas on my pants! HOOORRRAAAYYY! I LOVE UNNECESSARY SCREAMING AND CRYING!!!"

And just as I'm beginning to think that my job is really hysterical (I just watched a little boy run into a cabinet door while chasing a bubble!) I go to solve a fight between two little ones and a board book and one of them BITES ME.

On the arm. With his teeth. And saliva.

And just like that I've realized we're not actually the civilized people on two legs that we all think we are. We're no better than cavemen or laboradors. We're safe nowhere. At your place of employment or in your own living room. Biting is back and in full force and I've decided, screw it. If you can't beat them (especially if you're me) you must join them. I'm going to start biting people as well.

Which means I'll be calling you in about six days to bail me out of prison and stand with me during my temporary insanity trial because I bit the guy at 7-11 over the last cup of blueberry coffee. I won't go down without a fight!