Father's Day has come and gone. PuddleMama made a great breakfast in bed (although I just can't eat in bed- we had to move out to the loft) and I got to spend the day hanging out with Lucy. My dad asked me on the phone if it felt any different from any other day, and I had to be honest, it didn't really. At first I was sad about that, but then I realized that it didn't feel too different than any other day *with* Lucy. It certainly felt different that the days pre-PuddleBaby. It really does feel like little Lucy has just always been here, and that feels more than good.
We don't think PuddleDoggy feels exactly the same way. PuddleMama remarked that when she arrives home with Lucy in tow PuddleDoggy will run down and meet them at the door. PuddleDoggy will then see Lucy, lower his head a little, and go sulking off to his doggy bed. Poor guy. Add on top of that the fact we're trying to sell our house resulting in a limited supply of doggy toys laying around and the result is a sad puppy. I have been trying to give him some extra belly rubs, and next week he is going to be the happiest dog around when he visits his cousins Brock, Indy, Sophie, and the enigmatic Tommy.
Oh, there was one small event on Father's day that made it feel unusual. I got mooned. I was walking PuddleDoggy by the softball fields and two boys (maybe 12-14 years old) gave me the old Glen Modean. They then yelled "Yeah, you like that a$$!" before riding off on their BMX's. It momentarily made me glad that I had a little girl and not a little boy... But then thoughts of Girls Gone Wild ran through my head and I quickly and forcibly changed my thought pattern to less terrifying things, like picking up PuddleDoggy's poop. And I used to *like* thinking about Girls Gone Wild. Just another unexpected side-effect of having a girl.
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