It is still so cold here. This morning the house was so cold while we were getting ready that I couldn’t even be bothered to leave my blanket-nest to beg for some of Mom’s hard boiled egg. I made her bring it to me. Mom got me a new running harness because reflective stuff covered like 50% of it… and also because it was on sale. I was mortified that she would make me dress in bargain basement clothes, but she trapped me and wouldn’t let me leave until I was wearing it. Just like clearance rack items the world over, it was not only butt-ugly but also cut funny. She couldn’t figure out where my head and legs were supposed to go. She tried about 30 different directions before deciding that she’d had it right the first time. Finally she took me out into the cold. I was just happy that the fashion police wouldn’t be out that early.
Now that I was well and truly covered in high visibility fabrics, I lit up like a jumbotron every time Mom looked at me with her spotlight. So she made up a little jingle about “Ghost doooooog! Here comes the Ghost dooooooooog! Who’s a GHOST DOG?!” I did my best to ignore her and pretend like she was some lunatic stranger who just so happened to tie herself to me and now was chasing me down My Trail like a crazed fan. If someone had asked me, I would have said, “Oh, I have no idea where she came from. Last time I talked to Bieber he said the same thing happened to him all the time…”
Seriously. She was singing OUT LOUD, alone in the dark at 5:00 in the morning. What is it about mothers?! Why can’t they just BE COOL?!
Anyway, once we got to the part with all the lawns and grass I forgot my mortification. The grass had sparkles all over it, and I made a game of running at top speed through every yard, trying to get the sparkly grass is my mouth. Then I had to veer back onto the sidewalk right at the very last second before I hit a bush or a fence. It was SO FUN! I almost forgot about my geeky ill-fitting clothes and the world’s uncoolest Mom. Until she got excited watching me and I heard her sing, “Here comes the GHOST DOOOOOG!” Good time: ruined.
–Oscar the Ghost Doooooooooooooooog