Silly Rabbit...

Although I regularly feature my mom on this blog, Dad has kinda flown under the radar.  There's no specific reason for this covert behavior, however it IS a reflection of his real life.  He's gone YEARS without any long-standing jokes about him, embarrassing stories to tell at every family gathering, etc.  I'm proud to say, today is the first day of the rest of his life.  His EMBARRASSING STORY life.  Welcome to the real world, Dad!

Normally Dad is a pretty regular guy.  See exhibit A:

Ever notice how people get prettier or uglier the more you get to know their true personality? 

Here is what Dad looks like when you get to know his true inner self:

Source

That's right, The Cookie Monster.  Dad loves cookies so much that it's almost a "problem."  A serious disease called Cookie Love.  The man is obsessed.

Last week, my parents stopped by for the day.  We had a great time and headed out to wing night at a local restaurant.  At dinner, Dad gets this twinkle in his eye and says "I noticed you guys have a cookie jar on the counter now!" 

I paused.  We do not have a cookie jar on the counter.  What is he talking about?  We did have some girl scout cookies sitting on the counter, but they were still in boxes.  Maybe that's what he meant?  Mom knew something was wrong because of the look on my face, processing his comment.  Adam, however, caught on right away.

Adam: You don't mean the dog treat container do you?

Dad: No, no, the clear cookie jar with the oreos in it.  Right there on the counter!

Me: Dad, I don't know what kind of oreos you've been eating, but refresh me, what color are your regular Oreos?

Dad: Black, why?

Me: Did you happen to notice what color these "Oreos" were?  They're tan.  The reason for that is the "Oreos" you just ate are called Peanut Butter Droolies and can be found next to the Iams at Walmart.  They are dog treats.

Pause.

Dad: No, no, they're cookies! 

Me: No, Dad.  They're not.  They're dog treats. 

Pause.

Dad: Well, I guess I can't help it. I've been on this diet with your mother and I haven't had any cookies and I guess I just went crazy.  I couldn't help myself. 

Dear Lord.  The man is a MACHINE.  A cookie devouring machine. 

The next day he told mom that he needed a whole bottle of Rolaids because the wings from the night before were "barking" at him.  I commented that perhaps it wasn't the wings, maybe those dog treats caused HIM to bark.  He was not amused. 

All I can say is get ready for Christmas, old man.  Bring.It.On. :)

Doggy Fashion Don't

At the request of my mother and aunt, I give you: The Eyebrow Fiasco.

My parents watched our golden retriever, Bella, for a few hours over Easter weekend. We had Easter dinner with Adam's family and were set to stay at my parents' house later that night. Everything went as planned, and we arrived at my parents' around 11 pm. Everything was fine. We woke up, went to church, came back to Mom and Dad's and ate lunch. After we got back home that night, I started noticing that something was wrong with Bella. She didn't look right, but I couldn't quite place it. Finally, I realized...her eyebrows had been trimmed...cut, actually, not trimmed. They looked like little white stubs. Now, I will say that they'd been getting a bit long and starting to curl over towards her eyes...but she's a DOG. Who cares about her eyebrows? I knew what her eyebrows looked like before we dropped her off at my parents' house...so that left 2 scissor-wielding culprits.

I placed a phone call to Mom, knowing full well that she probably wasn't the Eyebrow Bandit. When I explained the situation, she had no idea what I was talking about, let alone that someone would even think to cut a dog's eyebrows. We started trying to figure out a timeline as to when the eyebrow escapade even occurred, since the dog wasn't there without me, Adam or Mom around for more than a few hours. We determined that Dad must've been the only one up early Easter morning, seen what he thought was a doggy fashion don't, and "remedied" the situation. As we were about to hang up, Dad came home, and she asked him what he knew about the situation. With the evidence stacked against him he admitted it. He's like, "yeah, I did it. So what? She looked like a crazy professor with those old eyebrows. They needed a trim." Maybe I should send in an application for that dog groomer show on TLC...apparently Dad is the expert. Poor Bella. Thank God he only went after her eyebrows!