Red Red Whine

After this morning, I’m not sure who has worse separation anxiety – the burrito or the dog.

So this morning, I was planning to wake up early and give Leroy a bath before I dropped him off at the vet for his dental cleaning. Which is aWHOLEnother post in and of itself. Burrito had other plans. He woke up happy as a clam, played around in the office after he had his breakfast, and then I did the UNTHINKABLE – I dropped him in the crib so I could shower. *gasp*

I know, awful, right? You would think I made the kid crawl over hot coals. He would not be satisfied with me even being in the room, I had to be holding him and within crawling distance and in sight at all times in order for him to be content this morning. This did not bode well for my plans. So I did the only thing I could think of – turned on all of his normally entertaining toys, dropped him in the crib, and ran. It was a 1-minute bath for the dog, who was supremely smelly and in need, and then back to the burrito.

I sat him in his bouncy seat which does not “bounce” because all 19.8lbs of him is focused on crying as he watches me get in the shower. Now to be fair, the crying stopped when I picked him up from the crib and after he got settled in the bouncy chair – it’s just whining now. He can’t see me? Whine. The caterpillar toy is making noise? Whine. The monkey on his bouncy seat is looking at him with the wrong tone? Whine.

At the same time, there is a not-quite-soaking wet dog locked in the kitchen, licking his still-empty dog dish that used to contain food, and whining because he has no food in said dish. He couldn’t eat anything this morning due to his dental cleaning. So Bad Bad Leroy Brown is making pitiful dog noises in the kitchen, burrito is upstairs alternating between angry, indignant shrieks and whining, and I’m sure if there were any neighbours home on either side of my house, I’d have the cops knocking on my door wanting to know if I was hoarding animals/neglecting lots of children/keeping Gollum in my house.

Burrito’s whining continued until we got to daycare, at which point I took him out of his seat, set him down, and he turned around and started bawling. I handed him to a daycare lady and MOMMA RUN. This is only the second time I’ve had to do the MOMMA RUN, thankfully. He’s a happy baby most of the time, but when he gets into an “I want parent” mood, it’s on like Donkey Kong.