The title of this post should probably be this:
I Almost Killed The Jolie
Why I Am Going to be a Horrible Mother
Don’t tell Blurty McBlurts about this post, ok? Let’s just keep it between us.
First, I introduced The Jolie to Esme. I left them alone for just a few minutes and look what happened.
Maybe it was good. Maybe Esme knocked The Jolie down a notch.
Then instead of leaving Esme and The Jolie unsupervised at home, I took The Jolie to Florida with me. She wasn’t allowed in the wolf enclosures (there was a height restriction), but I did take her to the beach.
One minute she was there.
The next minute she was gone.
First I thought, “That’s how I learned to swim. She’ll be fine.”
Then I realized she was having some difficulty. I started screaming, “It’s a rip tide, The Jolie! Swim sideways!”
I ended up going into the water to get her. Thank goodness she floats. And thank goodness there weren’t any sharks around. We all remember what happened to Pete, right? (Please observe a moment of silence for Pete.)
After the near drowning (Those are The Jolie’s words, not mine. She was fine. Seriously.), I needed a drink. Specifically, a margarita. More specifically, a raspberry margarita.
Where better to get a margarita than Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville? Who cares that it was only 11 in the morning? It was 5 o’clock somewhere, right?
Don’t worry. I didn’t share with The Jolie. There may be hope for me as a mother yet.