"Hey dude, your anniversary is next week. Don't screw it up this year"
"Hey, isn't it your ex-baby sitter's birthday? You should get her something"
In early March the phone let me know that Max's birthday was approaching. Max is my mother's Silky Terrier, constant companion, and fourth child. I'm not saying she loves the dog more than her children, but I am saying she's one dog sized Gucci handbag and owner-dog matching sweater set away from being that lady.
We hadn't had any fun with mom in a while, so I called my sisters Anna and Miranda and got the plan set in motion. Dad was supposed to distract mom while we decorated the house and prepared.
Miranda Baked a cake and bought small "Doggy Bags". Anna decorated with streamers. I bought party favors and made a mixed CD:
1. Who Let the Dogs Out - Baha Men
2. Who Am I? - Snoop Doggy Dogg
3. Hound Dog - Elvis Presley
Dad's distraction didn't last quite long enough, but asking someone to keep mom from home after work day is like asking a midget to tackle Barry Sanders in the open field. Sure, it might happen, but the odds aren't in your favor.
Eventually she got home and we had our little party. As lame as it was, the dogs really seemed to enjoy themselves, and so did mom.
slobbering on blowing out the candle.
Tonka rocking the birthday hat. Pepper desperately trying to get in a picture.
Anna and Jack showing off their hats. Pepper still trying to get in a picture.
Max being restrained by mom(It's the only time he's still)