It's true what they say!!

So last night hubby and I are out in the backyard, him being domestic, me pretending to be, making a new garden where he can grow even MORE freakin beans then he is already growing in one of our five (now six) gardens. I'm on the deck doing the "pretending to be domestic" and he is over at his truck shovelling off the load of dirt he got.

Man - "Nanc, stay out back"

Domestic Goddess (that's me!!) - "Huh?"

Man - "I said stay out back"

Me - "What? Why?" (I'm a woman of few words, except when I blog curiously)

Man - "Just stay out back"

Now, anyone that is a parent (except apparently the man who is a parent to our children) knows that if you tell someone NOT to do something, they are gonna walk right over top of you to do whatever it is they were told not to do. It isn't just kids that do this, who knew!!?? In my own defense, my first guess was that there was a rottie on our street and he didn't want me to see it so he could avoid the ahhhhhh I want a rottie so bad conversation (and I promise you, it has nothing to do with the fact my monster-in-law is terrified of them and has already proclaimed she will never step foot in our home again if we ever got one)

You guessed it, I start heading out front!

Man - "Nanc, I said stay out back, you don't need to see this."

Me - "See what"

Man - "For Fbomb sakes, a dog got hit by a car and is lying in the street"

Which of course sends me even faster out front cause my ten year old is three doors down playing with the neighbor's kids who happen to have a dog, so I automatically think OH GOD IT'S THEIR DOG AND WERE THE KIDS WITH HIM WHEN IT GOT HIT!!!!!????? Well, it wasn't their dog, who could have survived a car hit cause he is an average sized dog, but was the neighbor's two doors down who has a little yorkie. Anyone who has ever seen the size of a yorkie knows that any contact with a car ain't gonna end good for that doggie. Poor little Molly!!! :(

In other dog news, once hubby got the garden built, before filling it, we FINALLY buried my doggie Max who has been patiently waiting in his his little cardboard box (he was cremated) in my basement for about 12 years. Yeah yeah, 12 years - we "misplaced" him during renovations. (Thank god I never kept my mom's ashes when she died cause who knows where we woulda lost her.) As I open the baggie containing the remains of my very own first doggie Max and pour his ashes into the bottom of our garden I hear my hubby say "DAMNNNN he was a big dog." Men....