So we're here in Colorado for our annual skiing trip and as usual, there have been mishaps along the way. For anyone who hasn't read the back library of ski incidents and worse, they can be found here and here - not a word of this one was an exaggeration, by the way!
Anyway, this trip started off as well as possible. The Ball & Chain and the two boys drove the 2x 8 hour-a-day drive here, (I know), while me and the Ex-Queenager sensibly took a two hour flight! I am now a Global Entry person, meaning that I can swan through security without the usual faff with shoes, emptying all metal stuff into a bowl etc. However, since the Ex-Q failed to make her interview for said card, she still has to go through the normal lines, so I decided to go with her. (Whichever option I'd chosen I still would have been waiting around.) The nice lady at the first checkpoint told me I didn't have to take off my boots like everyone else. Unfortunately, they must have metal in the heels as they set off the detector and, much to the ex-Q's amusement, I had to take them off anyway! Pah!
The males picked us up at Denver airport and let me tell you, getting into a car that has been inhabited by three males and a dog is no bed of roses. I am going to have to get it fumigated after their return trip. Sitting in the back seat with a smelly dog panting into my face (stress, apparently) didn't really help either.
But that was just the start of things.
Christmas Eve -
Me to B&C - "Where did you put that box of presents?"
B&C (pointing to large Tupperware container) - "There."
Me - "That's not a box it's a bin or container."
B&C - "Oh, was there another one? I don't know, let me look."
Me - "You must remember if there was a large cardboard box in the back of the car."
B&C - "There wasn't. I picked up everything you told me to."
Me - "Wel,, you didn't 'cause we are short one large box of presents."
Commence huffing, puffing, accusatory looks and general guilt-inducing tactics.
Unfortunately the box that is still sitting on my dining room table contains all but one of the ten year old's presents. Now, you can tell older kids what's happened but it gets a bit tricky with a ten year old, and there's no way he would have been able to be "grown up" about it. So Christmas Eve saw us flying around trying to replace the presents we had bought him. Not my idea of a great Christmas Eve but the day was saved, so to speak.
Meanwhile, the dog - stressed to bits with the journey and different surroundings - hadn't eaten for two days so I was relieved when she finally decided to start again. Unfortunately, several hours after regaining her appetite, she also appeared to have a very, very bad case of the runs. OMG, as they say.
I won't go into too much detail but we had to take her outside every hour. The poor thing must have been in agony. This went on the whole of the next day too and, as we discovered, through the night. For some reason, she was very good at nudging me during the day when she needed to make a quick exit but through the night - not so much. And when house-trained dogs ever do pee or poop in the house, they usually try their very best to hide it. You won't find evidence in the middle of the living room, for example. Oh no, it'll be in some unsuspecting place just waiting to surprise someone. In our case, she was aiming for the top of the stairs (right outside the boys' room) but actually managed to cover most of the (brand new) stair carpet in the process.
What a mess.
And as is typical of our luck, because it was a weekend, the carpet cleaners class it as an "emergency" so we're talking mucho dinaro. It was either that or go out and buy a steam cleaner which I would then feel I had to toss due to the matter being cleaned up. Anyway, the carpet man did a lovely job but we ended up watching over the dog last night to make sure it didn't happen again.
She seems to be on the mend, having been starved for the last 24 hours. I am now feeding her small amounts of boiled turkey as per the vet's orders, plus squirting a granular, pro-biotic into her mouth 3 times a day, which she loves (not).
Rather like having a small child again.