Paris, the Escape Artist: Dumb Dog don't do that!

I am so sick of this damn dog, but I think I've got him this time.

I've spent about 15 hours in the heat over the last month repairing the gate on my side yard because my 9 year old RAT terrier, Paris, keeps squeezing his little butt through the fence and terrorizing my neighbors (yards) and their dogs.

I was so fed up with it at one point, I decided, Whatever! He can run amuck all he wants. But then, I observed him for about 15 good minutes pooping in the yards of about 5 different retired neighbors, then riling up their fenced in dogs. I knew I had to do something.

In 101 degree weather, I took my stool, tools, and sweat towel outside, near the area where he had created ANOTHER hole just big enough to push his butt through. TWO HOURS I toiled. . and sweated. . until I completely re-threaded the stupid fence. ou Do you know how HARD that is? Now, I'd done this exercise about 5 times this week (for about 30 minutes per try), so I had to spend another 30 minutes hidden in the bushes in the front yard, sweating profuselyobserving the dumb dog to see if he could get out.

Nope! VICTORY IS MINE!

I successfully fixed the fence, so when we sentence the dog to the backyard to do his poop and pee. . which by the way he does at the fence line and covers it so you can never see or smell it when you're on his turf. . he remains in the back yard.

That is until the boys, my two beautiful sons, go out to play and leave the door open; which allows him to escape AGAIN.. EVERY FRIGGIN DAY.

Now, that's a battle for another day.

This is another episode of God's Humor brought to you my me. . who tends to catch the punch lines.

Teaching my son to be a man: Excuse my potty mouth

For the sensitive and ultra-conservative, this is not your kinda story. . To add to that, for the sensitive and ultra-conservative, this is not your kinda blog. . but let's not get caught up in introductions.

This weekend me, the kids, and the boyfriend braved the crazy cold weather to watch the Little Rock Christmas Parade (after being FORCED to watch the crappy Jacksonville Christmas Parade because my daughter's band chose to partake) which is a component of our holiday tradition that we continue to maintain.

At some point near the end, my six year old, could not wait to go pee. So the boyfriend did the honorable thing and volunteered to take my son to the potty.

As you are considering what happened next, please remember that my family is not the outdoorsy type. We generally hold our pee for indoor plumbing, so the whole "you have to pee outside" thing probably took my son by surprise.

Once he was correctly positioned to do his business, my son did what he was taught to do. He pulled his pants down to pee. Apparently, the expectation (from the boyfriend) was that he would reveal the portion of his body that needed to perform for this duty and leave the rest of his body cozily covered in the 30ish degree weather. But again, as he was taught, my son, pulled his pants down to his ankles and commenced to go pee.

The boyfriend was shocked - appauled even - to look over and see my son's bottom and a large portion of his legs bare while he went to the bathroom. He asked, "Son, what are you doing?" Of course, my son looked at him and stated the obvious, ".. going pee."

The boyfriend took note of the scene, allowed my son to fully relieve himself, and waited until we were comfortably at home to dig deeper into what he thought was a very odd tendency for my fully potty trained six-year old son. He described, as I have to you, what happened, and waited until the end to burst into laughter.

I had my back to him, so it took him quite a while to figure out that I did not get the humor in the situation. Since I had not caught on, I thought I would address him.

"What else could J do when he went to the bathroom if he did not pull down his pants?" I asked. "Ha! Well, he could've just taken it out. He can't just expose his entire body every time he has to go pee," said the boyfriend. "What does he do when he goes to a regular bathroom: at home, the mall, or at school?"

Without him saying it, I was then able to figure it out. I never gave consideration to what men do when I potty trained my boys. My eight-year old had somehow just picked it up, but not the baby. He did what Mommy does. .

I can do this. I can teach my sons to be a man. I can teach them to be caring, honest, hard-working, dependable.. all the good stuff that comes with being a human being. But my brother, boyfriend, church member, friends, ex (as much as I hate to mention him), are invaluable in guiding me and my sons on the details that I miss..

And by all means, don't die of embarrassment when you learn about the missed details in public. I'm not perfect. Bring it to light. We can laugh and move on.