Should come as no great surprise

That pregnancy has made me insane. Well, not entirely true. The other night I was crying and, in between sniffles, I told Bud it was probably just the pregnancy hormones. That's when he helpfully reminded me that, no, I am always this way, you may not blame the pregnancy. FINE.

But anyway. Crazy-er. Hormonal-er. My once slightly over the edge behavior has taken a nosedive right for the actual loony bin. AND I THINK I LIKE IT.

Saturday I traveled to Wal-Mart with Anon Friend who may or may not wish to actually be mentioned by name in this story. We were on our way to pick up a kitchen item that was super important in a recipe we were attempting. We pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of the car only to witness, what's that? Is that a dog in that car? A cute widdle doggie? Wait. What? Is there not even ONE window cracked? (Closer inspection). NOT ONE WINDOW SO MUCH AS SMIDGED DOWN IN A GOOD FAITH EFFORT OF NOT COOKING DOG IN WAL-MART PARKING LOT. I really think it took about thirty seconds for the whole thing to sink in, like, who could possibly have never read an article on child or dog cooking in hot car? Who has never been in a parked car - with the windows possibly even rolled down - and not realized what an oven that becomes in, uh, four seconds? Like so many other times in my life I glanced around me to make sure I wasn't being Punk'd or video-taped in some other hilarious game of gotcha! before I remembered that 1. I am not famous 2. I am in the middle of a Wal-Mart parking lot in ALABAMA for God's sake 3. I am not that special. Whatever. Someday, Ashton.

So we marched into the store in order to ask that these nice (MORONS) people (COMPLETE IDIOTS) be paged in order to de-fry their poor little doggie. Nope. Apparently, no can do at Wal-Mart. But we can helpfully give you the name of the police department and you can march yourself back out to that car and hope not to get your self-righteous, meddling ASS KICKED. So, you know, BEING PREGNANT AND ALL, I took the call the police option and went to wait by the car on standby in case no one came in several minutes in which case I was determined to look around the parking lot for a blunt object with which to bash in the windows. Accompanying the smashed windows would be a loving note that would read, "Roll down your windows for your dog you ignorant douche bags. Love, Your Long Lost Brain."

Unfortunately the owners beat the police to the car:

"Zis your car?"

"Um, yes?"

"Well, I've just called the police because your dog could die in there without some windows down."

"Okay."

"Next time, roll your windows down."

"Okay."

AT LEAST THEY HAD THE DECENCY TO LOOK EMBARRASSED.

*And let me say this one final note before I am chalked up to just some self-righteous crazy. I may be, but I think I can take a moment to defend myself anyway. I am SO in favor of minding my own business. Sure, I judge from afar. Sure, I peer into other's grocery carts in order to mentally take note on how unhealthy their choices are (while ignoring my own carton of ice cream). Yes, I have wondered at the person ignoring his or her widdle, iddle toddler running around the coffee shop but all of that is IN MY HEAD. I get it. MYOFB already. But I draw the line at a few things and one of those involves cooking your dog in front of me.

**Lest you think this was a five minute jump into the store it was not. The entire episode from when we pulled up to when we saw the dog's owners was at least 20 minutes.

Comments

[Sarah S.]

I would have done the same thing. Except I also would have let the air out of one of their tires. It's one of my favorite things to do to mess with people. I like to do it to people who park in handicapped places who don't have a hang tag or license plate. Act like a douche bag and I'll ruin your day.