The answer is nothing.
This weekend went by way too fast. It’s been snowing non-stop today and all I’ve wanted to do is put on pj’s and marathon trash TV.
But enough of me whining, let’s catch up!
I spent my weekend dog/house sitting for my boss. I’ve been house sitting for the past few years for friends and family, but being left alone in your bosses house is next level terrifying.
I was in charge of three pups: Simon, Franny and Daisy. My boss was kind enough to give me a heads up about their anxiety problems, but convinced I live in a Disney-like world where I can befriend any animal as a trusty sidekick, I dismissed her fears with a swish of my hand.
After force feeding each of them pieces of hot dog and milk bones, I finally won over two of the three.
Franny, Simon and I bonded while watching Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Even though Guy Fieri makes me a little sick (I’m convinced he’s breaking 100 health violations every episode) we cuddled and waited for Matteo to arrive.
Now, I should explain that Matt is scared of meeting new dogs. A dog bit him in the face a few years ago leaving him with a Joaquin Phoenix cleft-pallet type scar on his upper lip. I like to mislead people and tell friends who haven’t met him yet that he was part of Operation Smile, but really he was just at a cottage, drinking some beers and misjudged a dog’s temperament. Poor guy.
Knowing all this, I was worried our evening babysitting was going to be a disaster. Literally two minutes after he walked in the door I found him on the couch with the babies like this
I would like to say I wasn’t jealous, but I was.
I decided to go find the hiding diva, Daisy and have a serious heart to heart about her anxiety issues. I sat outside her crate for about fifteen minutes telling her about myself (my favourite colour is black, if I had any superpower it would be mind control), petting her belly and apologizing for touching her teets on her belly even though we were technically strangers.
20 minutes later….
Now for a part of my weekend that all girlfriends will understand: UFC.
I always feel bad because I make Matt watch my shows all the time; the Mindy Project, New Girl, 19 Kids and Counting. I decided to hand over the remote and let him pick our entertainment for the evening. To my surprise he wanted to watch UFC.
I’ve never seen UFC, I’ve never understood UFC, but I have to admit after two rounds I was yelling at the TV, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? WHAT HAPPENED IN YOUR LIFE TO MAKE YOU THIS WAY! WHERE YOU AN ORPHAN RAISED ON THE STREETS STEALING BREAD LIKE ALADDIN FORCED TO PROTECT YOURSELF THROUGH ANCIENT CHINESE ART OF KARATE!?”
Seriously, what motivates someone to willingly get punched in the face? Why would anyone want to be tackled by a half naked man, intertwined with his sweaty body without at least getting dinner before hand and an orgasm at the end of the night?
I don’t understand, but I stayed awake to watch every. single. fight.
I’m hooked. I’m ashamed.
Despite fancying myself an intellectual and a pacifist, I have to say mob mentality or something took over when I was watching those fights and I was excited whenever someone drew blood.
I don’t think I want to give Matt the remote anymore. Next thing you know I’ll be wanting to watch Duck Dynasty and I’ll finally understand the rules of the NFL.
I don’t think I’d be able to stand it.
What did you do this weekend?