"Hey Hon. What's going on today?" my mom questioned.
Shoving a few more goldfish into my mouth, I answered, "Ummmmm," crunch, chew, crunch, "not much." I swallowed. "Just eating goldfish with El.
Mom quickly chimed in with, "Oh goldfish! I love goldfish!" I smiled through the phone, because, really, who doesn't love goldfish. ( Any snack that has a serving size of 55 pieces is OK by me.)
Before I could continue the conversation, Mom added, "Cappy loves goldfish too!"
And lest you think that Cappy is my dad, or a friend, or even the mailman, let me set you straight.
Cappy is a dog. My mom's dog for all of you newbies. A dog that is so ugly that he is cute. A dog that sleeps on my mom's bed pillow and has his own wardrobe.
Yes. That kind of dog.
And, my mother was not only feeding him people food (which she swears she does not do), she was comparing my human baby with her dog baby.
Aye. Yi! Yi!
It was beyond ridiculous.
"Mom," I used my calming voice (or at least I tried), "Are you seriously comparing Cappy to Ellerie?"
"He. is. a. dog!" I stated slowly for effect. No matter. It fell on deaf ears.
"Annie! Do you know how expensive dog treats are? Goldfish are much more economical." She retorted.
And with that argument, I gave up. There is no way that I will ever convince my mom that Cappy is a dog.
And, after this post, I will probably have to buy "my brother" a bag of goldfish to make the peace.
****** To read more about my hate/hate realtionship with my mom's dog you can click one of the following.
Mom's Not in Kansas Anymore
Updates . . .