I go back and do my usual dive bomb on the door to let him know he forgot to take me with him. He won't open the door. My Boy ALWAYS lets me in, not doing so totally destroys my world and sets off a round of pug screaming that Mom swears is going to bring the police breaking down our front door some day. I dive bomb the door again, nothing. I howl, still nothing. I am at this point forced into screaming. He caves and lets me in. I anxiously look around for those wonderous eaty things the mail lady brought me, I am even slobbering in excitement...nothing....just some plain ole' white gloves laying on My Boy's desk. I am so disappointed, but also happy, because it is getting cold outside and I know it's a good thing My Boy will have gloves to wear. However, since it wasn't anything for me I leave and head for Mom in the kitchen. She is cooking and she is clumsy so that means she will at some point in the meal preparation drop something on the floor. I, being always ready to help, will swoop in and clean it up for her. So Mom is at the kitchen island chopping things. Tucker is, as usual, in Mom's room asleep. My Boy is in his room. I am at my food post, on guard.
I hear My Boy come out of his room and start down the hall. Normally I would run to see what he was doing but well...there was food involved and I couldn't leave my post. I take my job seriously. Then he tells Mom to turn off the lights for a minute. What?! Turn off the kitchen lights?! How in the hell am I suppose to see the food drop? But she does it. Then we are attacked....it was horrible I tell you. I thought it was going to be the end of all of us.
This is what burst into our kitchen.....
Then it turned into this:
Then it went crazy and did this:
Now I am no fool so fight or flight mode kicked in. I decided to "flight" instead of "fight". I screamed and ran. Right into the tree (this one isn't a Christmas tree, Mom calls it a plant, looks like a damn tree to me) in the kitchen and knocked it over. Now I am sliding in the dirt but still running. Right into my water dish and knocked it over too. Now I have dirt and water which quickly made the most wonderful mud. Imagine it, mud right inside my own house! Mom is yelling at My Boy to turn the lights on before I get into the den and onto the carpet. She makes a dive to catch me and misses. Down she goes, right into the mud. The lights come on, I see Mom in the mud and I am not about to let her have all that fun on her own so I jump right in her lap. I am ecstatic! I have my Mom in the floor, mud and the monster is gone. It doesn't get any better than that! Mom? Not so much.
So dinner was late, Mom and I both had to have a bath and My Boy had to clean up the kitchen floor. But I'm telling you that few minutes in the house mud was worth every second of it! I mean, seriously, when do you get mud inside your house? It was pug heaven.
You must be wondering about the monster that attacked us.
With the lights on he wasn't very scary. He looked like this:
Yep, it was My Boys new gloves! You know, the ones I thought would keep him warm?
Turns out they are called Rave Gloves and My Boy thought it was a good idea to waste some money he conned his Dad out of. Yes, I admit it My Boy is a con artist, but he isn't as bad as my sister Ashley. Mom actually calls her "The Grifter". Griff for short. Even has her listed in her cell phone under "Griff". Griff thinks it's funny, but that's another story for another time. Back to the gloves.
They look like this in the package:
Rave Gloves NITELIFE Designs
Not scary at all and after the shock wore off I did enjoy watching My Boy with them, as long as he left the lights in the house on. The big joke around my house today is just why did he buy them, the kid has never been to a Rave in his life and doesn't really want too. His answer? He just thought they were "cool".
Teenage boys are a strange breed.