Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels
"And here is another box of presents for everyone. You sure you can find someone to help wrap them?"
Jim wanted them given out, but wrapping was not what he wanted to do. I would have to get the paper, boxes, ribbon, tape. I even had to figure out who got what.
"I thought once the divorce was finale, I was exempt from these kind of duties."
Jim laughed. We had a good ex-relationship. I knew what he would not do. He knew what I would still put up with: his inability to focus and his poor memory. "Say they are from whomever you want."
Kids were used to finding out they had given some gift from Goodwill to another member of the family, and not knowing they had bought it. They were "trained" to just say, "You're Welcome", or "My Dad found it for me". Everyone was fairly good natured about this, unless it was a gift 4 sizes too large and became a bit of an insult, and then they had to excuse themselves, "OOPS- you KNOW my Dad found that one, I had NOTHING to do with THAT!"
I had some of the children help with the wrapping, the pile under the tree grew by leaps and bounds. I think the plan here is to wear everyone out by the mounds of gifts they must open, even though most are bought at Goodwill. They finally don't even want to open anymore presents. We win, because they just give up the fight. There are NO more great gifts, just rejects. If they do not like the present, and someone else in the family does, it gets traded, "OOPS- wrong name on that one. Just trade. It's fine to get what you really want!"
Any presents, unwrapped left under the tree and not taken home, are fair game to be returned to Goodwill the next week, because they are not really claimed by anyone.
"We have more presents than ever!" shouts Weslee. He did not help me wrap a lot of the presents. There are a lot of tennis balls. Weslee loves tennis balls to practice baseball, but they end up in the bushes, on the roof, down the street. We always need more. He will get more. They are not new, though.
Jim sent over a few bags of chocolate chips, a salami, Reese's Peanut Butter cups, and 3 squares of individually wrapped American cheese. to whom shall I gift these?????
I take a nice little $1.00 pitcher, could be used for a vase or for juice, and put a bag of chocolate chips inside, wrap it up and put Thom's name on it, "From Dad". Perfect. They both love chocolate chip cookies, and Weslee yells, "Is that ready, is it, is it, can I put it under the tree?"
"I guess so."
I continue wrapping, after eight more presents, Weslee has his friend on thee line, "Can I go to Oscar's house, can I can I can I????"
I talk to the Mom in charge, and drive Weslee over, return to the strange sight of Chester, slinking around, tail between legs, cowering under the table.
"AHA," I say, there is something amiss here. I look around, and on the futon I spy, an empty 12 0unce bag of SEMI-SWEET CHOCOLATE MORSELS.
Somewhere I have heard, that chocolate is a poison to dogs, and I am sure that my little 11 pound dog, consuming nearly one pound of something considered poison, this is not good! I call my daughter, Dog expert and pet search devotee, who insists I go to the clinic.
It takes me 15 minutes to get the little black curly haired one there, and the Vet immediately starts to send hydrogen peroxide down his throat. He is foaming at the mouth, as she runs around the facility with him, but then a few moments later, up comes heaps and heaps of mushy foamy chocolate. This is what saved little Chester, otherwise his kidneys might have been damaged. He stayed overnight at the clinic, with an IV to provide fluids, and was I glad he was not hurt by this incident.
At home it was so quiet without Chester, no whining, so running and chasing the squirrels that attack my bird feeders, no barks at the passerby. Too quiet here. Then we went to pick him up and saw the "Thundershirt" on the counter.
"Mom, you can't take that one off the stuffed animal!", Brianna quietly told me. I proceeded to ask for another one to try on Chester. These tight shirts are like swaddling a baby, to quiet an anxious animal. It is also supposed to help animals that don't like thunderstorms or any loud noises. Chester is not as disturbed by loud noises, he just runs around and acts wild at any disturbance. I wonder if this will help him calm down a bit. It is not advertised to help with dogs that get into Christmas presents with someone else's name on it.
I hope Chester has lost his taste for chocolate chips, since the Vet gave him a chaser of hydrogen peroxide. We are keeping all candy up high so we are not taking any chances.
"Crash" What was that? Chester! He just tried to get into a dish of chocolate chip cookies a neighbor brought over. I guess that answers my question. He did NOT learn his lesson after all that! I think I will buy a bottle of hydrogen peroxide for the next time he gets into chocolate!
Jim wanted them given out, but wrapping was not what he wanted to do. I would have to get the paper, boxes, ribbon, tape. I even had to figure out who got what.
"I thought once the divorce was finale, I was exempt from these kind of duties."
Jim laughed. We had a good ex-relationship. I knew what he would not do. He knew what I would still put up with: his inability to focus and his poor memory. "Say they are from whomever you want."
Kids were used to finding out they had given some gift from Goodwill to another member of the family, and not knowing they had bought it. They were "trained" to just say, "You're Welcome", or "My Dad found it for me". Everyone was fairly good natured about this, unless it was a gift 4 sizes too large and became a bit of an insult, and then they had to excuse themselves, "OOPS- you KNOW my Dad found that one, I had NOTHING to do with THAT!"
I had some of the children help with the wrapping, the pile under the tree grew by leaps and bounds. I think the plan here is to wear everyone out by the mounds of gifts they must open, even though most are bought at Goodwill. They finally don't even want to open anymore presents. We win, because they just give up the fight. There are NO more great gifts, just rejects. If they do not like the present, and someone else in the family does, it gets traded, "OOPS- wrong name on that one. Just trade. It's fine to get what you really want!"
Any presents, unwrapped left under the tree and not taken home, are fair game to be returned to Goodwill the next week, because they are not really claimed by anyone.
"We have more presents than ever!" shouts Weslee. He did not help me wrap a lot of the presents. There are a lot of tennis balls. Weslee loves tennis balls to practice baseball, but they end up in the bushes, on the roof, down the street. We always need more. He will get more. They are not new, though.
Jim sent over a few bags of chocolate chips, a salami, Reese's Peanut Butter cups, and 3 squares of individually wrapped American cheese. to whom shall I gift these?????
I take a nice little $1.00 pitcher, could be used for a vase or for juice, and put a bag of chocolate chips inside, wrap it up and put Thom's name on it, "From Dad". Perfect. They both love chocolate chip cookies, and Weslee yells, "Is that ready, is it, is it, can I put it under the tree?"
"I guess so."
I continue wrapping, after eight more presents, Weslee has his friend on thee line, "Can I go to Oscar's house, can I can I can I????"
I talk to the Mom in charge, and drive Weslee over, return to the strange sight of Chester, slinking around, tail between legs, cowering under the table.
"AHA," I say, there is something amiss here. I look around, and on the futon I spy, an empty 12 0unce bag of SEMI-SWEET CHOCOLATE MORSELS.
Somewhere I have heard, that chocolate is a poison to dogs, and I am sure that my little 11 pound dog, consuming nearly one pound of something considered poison, this is not good! I call my daughter, Dog expert and pet search devotee, who insists I go to the clinic.
It takes me 15 minutes to get the little black curly haired one there, and the Vet immediately starts to send hydrogen peroxide down his throat. He is foaming at the mouth, as she runs around the facility with him, but then a few moments later, up comes heaps and heaps of mushy foamy chocolate. This is what saved little Chester, otherwise his kidneys might have been damaged. He stayed overnight at the clinic, with an IV to provide fluids, and was I glad he was not hurt by this incident.
At home it was so quiet without Chester, no whining, so running and chasing the squirrels that attack my bird feeders, no barks at the passerby. Too quiet here. Then we went to pick him up and saw the "Thundershirt" on the counter.
 |
| Chester in Thundershirt |
I hope Chester has lost his taste for chocolate chips, since the Vet gave him a chaser of hydrogen peroxide. We are keeping all candy up high so we are not taking any chances.
"Crash" What was that? Chester! He just tried to get into a dish of chocolate chip cookies a neighbor brought over. I guess that answers my question. He did NOT learn his lesson after all that! I think I will buy a bottle of hydrogen peroxide for the next time he gets into chocolate!
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