Nuclear Family Warhead

I feel like I just fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down.  NukeMom played me like a drum.  It all started with our little friend you see there in the cup.  It’s a tick.  I state that for those of you that aren’t entomologists and/or don’t own dogs.  He was found residing on the inside of Penny the Beagle’s left ear.  He hadn’t been around very long.  I was able to pull him off with my fingers using a paper towel.  No tweezers, 10 blade or suction required.  We then placed him in a cup.  The only way to kill them (So I’ve been told) is to drown them in alcohol.  You’d think I would have grabbed the alcohol while I still had the tick held firmly between my fingers; but it’s Saturday.  I usually don’t think on Saturdays until at least 2:00pm, and it was only 11:20.  I put the tick in the cup and then ran for the alcohol when the tick started to climb up the side.  I grabbed the first bottle of alcohol that I saw.  That would be it in the cup on the right in the picture.  I doused the little bastard with 3 oz of liquid fury and then went to wash my hands.

Here is a picture of the death fluid.  I think the expiration date was sometime during the Nixon administration.  I don’t know if you can see it or not, but the bottle says: with Wintergreen Oil and Lanolin Derivative.  That explains the green tint.  It was then that I realized that we already have a bottle of green tinted alcohol with wintergreen.  It’s called Scope.  I checked on our little friend and he appeared to be doing the breast stroke and was headed for the swim up bar.  I went back to the medicine cabinet looking for the “good” stuff.  I found it behind the band aids.  Now we’re talking!  This is the stuff I was looking for!  Just a blue label that says ALCOHOL in all caps, in ”we mean business” font.  I think it was Kitty Dukakis Private Reserve, but I’m not sure. 

I poured some in another cup and helped our little friend over with the aid of a paper clip.   He jumped right off thinking the party had just moved down one hot tub.  Little did he know.  After about 5 minutes I came back and he wasn’t moving.  I figured him for dead, but Nukegirl yelled; “He’s still alive Daddy, I saw him move!”  Sure enough, a little nudge with the paper clip, and his legs started moving.  Now I was getting upset.  Not only had I given him a shiny exo-skeleton with the “Lanolin Derivative”, he was also sporting minty fresh breath.  I used the paper clip with all the skill and steadiness of a Matador to inflict the death blow.  He swam around for another few seconds, and then the legs curled in.  Victory was mine.  Or was it?

“You said you were going to give the dogs a bath this week, might as well do it now’, NukeMom said.  I headed out to the store to pick up some odds and ends and some flea & tick collars.  After all 3 dogs were bathed I realized that the tub would need to be cleaned before Nukegirl took her bath.  I got out the Comet and did my duty.  What’s with this mass of wet, dog-smellin’ towels here on the floor?  Better wash those.  Uh-Oh, the washing machine’s full.  No problem, I’ll just put them in the drye……you guessed it.  I took the clothes out of the dryer, placed them on our bed, which already had a clean load waiting to be folded; and went back and loaded the dryer.  I then took the wet, smelly dog towels to the washing machine, loaded it up (Gently!) and poured in entirely too much bleach.  The foyer now smells like a YMCA indoor pool, but I guarantee you those dog towels won’t smell anymore. 

I went back into the bathroom and saw all the dog hair.  I vacuumed the bathroom floor.  “Hey honey, since you have the vacuum out, would you mind doing the den?”, NukeMom said.  Hint taken.  After vacuuming the entire house, I beat her to the punch by saying; “I’m going to go ahead and mop ALL of the floors since I have to do the bathroom anyway.”  “Wow, you’re pretty smart”, she joked.  Dinner was easy because it’s leftover night, and NukeMom helped get Nukegirl in and out of the tub.  The boys took care of themselves, as I attacked the laundry on the bed.  Half way through the pile NukeMom came in, gave me a kiss on the cheek and said; “I think I’m going to go watch some TV.”  I looked at the clock and it was 9:44pm.  I caught a glimpse of a grin on her face as she turned to leave.  It was then that I realized the song I had been humming for the last 7 hours or so was “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who.  Idiot.

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