Today, my girls were tardy because we had to wait for a bulldozer to clear water that had flooded our road. Last week, it was because our dogs got stuck…together. (Why yes, yes that can happen.)

You see, our sweet little Sylvie Odette was in heat and we had been keeping her separate from Ollie Augustus to avoid a teen pregnancy. That is until I heard, “Oh no! Ollie no! Oh dear God, they’re stuck!” I came running downstairs to find my husband throwing water on them trying to separate them.

“What? What do you mean they’re stuck? They can do that? Oh my gosh, he’s stuck! Get him off! How do you?! What do you do?! Go google it!” was all I could ramble. As Lawrence googled to see how best to break up their party, the girls were waking up to our commotion. I quickly yelled up, “Good morning girls! You need to make your bed, brush your hair, and get dressed before you come downstairs. Let mama know when you finish all of that and then I’ll make you breakfast! Just stay upstairs!”

Not wanting to explain their festivities, I grabbed both collars and started dragging them to the patio. It was like a bad three-legged race and I’m pretty sure they may need dog therapy, but I got them on that patio and closed the blinds. By this point, Lawrence had informed me that this getting stuck business is apparently normal and can last a little while. I peeked out to check and things had gone from bad to worse. They were butt-to-butt, trying to run in opposite directions. (I can never un-see that.)

I finally got them separated, and my girls came down for breakfast. I thought things had settled down until Sofia yelled upstairs, “Mom! Lydia and Vivian are smacking each other and Vivi knocked Lydia’s breakfast in the floor! It has dirt in the peanut butter!”

I mean seriously, the tardy drop down list doesn’t include Jerry Springer smacking among sisters”or dog festivities. Surely we aren’t the only ones with mornings like this…right? Right? You mean, your teachers don’t get texts like this from you?

So, we’re eating dinner on the patio and Vivian asks, “You know why I like cows?” Before I could reply, she said, “I like cows because I like steak. Steak is inside the cow and then somebody kills it so you can get the steak out.”

As I confirmed that steak comes from a cow, she took another bite of her steak and said, “I like steak sauce, too. Steak sauce is really good with steak but I don’t have any.” Taking the hint, I brought her some Worcestershire sauce.

Vivian thanked me for her favorite sauce and noticed my flowers. She smiled and said, “I like your orange lilies, Mom. I like your roses too, the pink roses are pretty, but I don’t really like roses because they can poke holes in you. For real, those little pokeys hurt! I like your dark lilies too. We have pretty flower here.”

She took another bite of steak and said, “Yep. I like cows.”