Dog Lady Returns

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    Happy Birthday to Stephanie from, The Stephanie Connection.  You've been such a strength and blessing to my life.  Your encouragement and kind words have meant the world to me.  I don't know if I would have been able to finish writing "Bible Girl" without you.  I always look forward to reading your blog and your comments.
   Thanks for your friendship, and may you have an amazing day!
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    For the post of the day . . .
    Do you remember the Dog Lady?
    I've written posts about her before:

1. Dog Lady and the Missing Brain

2. Showdown with the Gunslinging Dog Lady

   
   
   
   To make a long story short,

   She brought a dog (that she thought was mine) to my house IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!  Turns out the dog was a boy--too bad mine was a girl.  Then, weeks later, although we didn't know each other well, the woman said I had beautiful children and asked if I wanted to be a surrogate mother--weird I know!  Then, she told me she had no eggs--and no nursing license (since the latter got taken away).  

    Now that you have some history, let me continue on with the story . . .
       I took Doctor Jones back to the pediatrician.  "She is getting better," he said.  "But just to be sure, we'll give her a steroid shot.  The croup is lingering more than it should."
        My other children cringed, because when you're a kid NOTHING is worse than getting a shot.  You could get held back in Kindergarten, forced to vacuum the whole house; you could miss seeing Santa at the mall

   

   . . . and still it wouldn't compare to getting a S-H-O-T. 
       "Why?" you ask.
       Because (as a kid once told me), "When you're little, shots are of the devil."
       But, back to the point.  Doctor Jones got a shot.  She acted brave and tough, then she curled into my brand new wool sweater and rubbed her snotty tear-streaked face across my collar. 
       We left after that, and I must admit that my older girls and boy cried harder than Doctor Jones did.  I tugged the Zombie Elf by his sleeve, then told my girls to stop crying and watch where they were walking.  My legs nearly gave out from exhaustion.  I thought my life might end because I was surrounded by four CRYING children.
       Then it happened, I saw an angel baby at two o'clock.  His mother pushed him in a stroller and I couldn't get over those baby cheeks.  "You have such a gorgeous baby!" I yelled, through my cyclone of children. 
       The woman didn't hear me.  I'd practically given what was left of my beating heart, JUST to tell her how gorgeous her baby was, and she couldn't even acknowledge my presence?
       "I said," a deep breath filled my lungs and my nostrils flared, "you have a GORGEOUS BABY!"
       So, I know it started off as a compliment and I was being nice, but didn't she understand, the Zombie was running in place (since I held his armless sleeve), Doctor Jones was wailing and my older girls weren't helping me at all. 
       I wanted to give the stranger a compliment.  Would it kill her to say "thank you?!"
       The woman turned then, you know the one who had a baby cuter than Zeus.  I'd kept looking at the baby, but as the woman turned, I swallowed my gum.
       I knew that woman!  Why hadn't I kept my stupid mouth shut.
       "Oh how nice to see you!" she gushed.  "This is my little boy."   
       "He's darling."  It was the truth. And now that she'd turned, I wanted to run.
       Had she found a surrogate mother?  Had she conceived?  I never found out because the Zombie Elf--who suddenly turned into Samson--pulled me away like a reckless train.
      "I'm so happy for you."  I waved goodbye, thankful for inhumane strength.
      "It was nice bumping into you," she said.  "Seeing all of those kids, though . . . wow, it's good birth control for me.  I only wanted one.  What were you thinking?"  She laughed, this insane talk-show host laugh.
       I should have screamed back, told her how there may be four of them, and they may be wild, but they're my zoo of crazies!  And even if they cover me in snot and pull me in different directions, I wouldn't trade them for anything!
      As we drove home, I couldn't quit wondering, had she found another woman who would give her their eggs?  If she had, the surrogate must have been beautiful! 
       I may always wonder, but at least I learned one thing . . . I should never compliment people unless I know who they are first.  Yeah . . . that's a good plan.