If dogs could talk...

If dogs could talk, they would 'have a lot of 'splaining to do.'

Okay, I'm going to try and explain what happened today without grinding my teeth and tearing up.

As if things are not hard enough already right now, things just get a little worse.  Today, I am getting Blazer out of the car in the driveway when Aaron walks out onto our deck and asks me the strangest question:

Aaron:  "Did you by chance take the can of formula with you today?"
Me:  "Ummm, no.  Why?"
Aaron:  "I was afraid of that."

I couldn't think of why he would ask that.  ...And then, I knew.

Now, before I get red and angry and say things I shouldn't, I want to say that I do love my dogs...JUST NOT RIGHT NOW.

I get into the house and Aaron begins to tell me that when he got home today, he found an empty can of baby formula on the ground.  (Keep in mind we had two empty cans and one FULL can on the counter this morning.)  He looks at the can and hopes it's one of the empty ones.  BUT OH NO, it's not one that has already been emptied.  NOPE.  It's the can we just opened the night before; the $25.99 take-this-financial-kick-in-the-ass can of powder SOY formula we give the baby.  And why might that once full, EXPENSIVE, can of formula be empty on the ground for?

That's right...THE DOGS.

I'm trying to hold back people.  I really am.  And I honestly don't think the anger has left my mind since Aaron finished telling me about it.  I automatically began crying because it was our last can before Aaron got paid at the end of the week.  At that point today, I didn't care if we had dogs or not.  In fact, I was ready to send them off to adoption that instant.  We leave the can on the counter everyday.  It's a can of powder for all-mighty sake!  It doesn't even look, taste, smell ANYTHING like food.  GRRR.   I know...I know, they don't know the difference between a $25.99 can of formula vs. a worthless piece of trash.  It's just, the timing really sucks. 

The only savior in this situation, thankfully, is the fact that I had purchased a surplus amount of a different formula about two weeks ago that Aaron and I ended up not caring much for.  Those unopened, smaller cans of that formula were still sitting in the cupboard.  So while I am still able to feed my child, I have to let the steam of my rage cool down before I can cuddle and love on the dogs again. 

If dogs could talk, I'd like to hear the rationale behind eating 25 ounces of powdered, not-so-great-smelling, soy formula.  Oh yeah, and I'd also like to hear a big, "I'm rawry mom!"

Now, I'm going to go hit my pillow.