Hurt by Anger

The following events took place between 6 pm and 7 pm.

I had just chastised our oldest son for spying on my conversation with my wife. I thought it would be a good time to talk about why eaves-dropping is wrong. It backfired. He started crying because I had taken all the fun things away. I explained that if it's not fun for everyone, then it's not really fun. I also explained that if he wanted to hear our conversation, then he should ask. I might not let him, but then he would know how I felt about him hearing it. He sulked for the next half hour.

I didn't really feel that great to begin with, and probably made a mountain out of a mole hill. Anyhow, I had started cooking some rice and vegetables, but then I realized that I hadn't turned the cooker to cook, but left it on warm. So I flicked the switch and decided that a little music might make the moment more enjoyable. So I sat down to the computer and began picking out some songs to play. I heard the kids scooting chairs around in the kitchen and I told to stop it and to put the chairs back and for them to stay out of the kitchen. So they all left the kitchen.

Then I heard a loud crashing, breaking sound in the kitchen. I yelled out, "Who's in the kitchen!" But the kitchen was empty. I went to see what the sound was from, and I quickly found the source. There on the floor lay a busted plate with some sausage and brisket under it. I had gotten it out to go with the rice. Our youngest had scooted a chair over to the counter and pulled the plate over the edge of the counter just enough to where it took it a while to fall. He was probably going to put the plate on the table, but when I told them to get out of the kitchen, he just put the chair back and vamoosed. Andrew had already been in trouble for turning off the computer, and here he was going to the corner again.

Well, we weren't going to be eating any meat with our rice, but it wasn't exactly contaminated. I looked it over for pieces of broken ceramics and it was clean. So I thought I would feed the brisket to the pets. Now, I'm sure that there's someone reading this thinking bad idea feeding them table scraps, but that's what I did. I just opened the back door and called them and they came. First came my giddy dog who hardly couldn't contain herself. She wagged her little corgi rear so furiously, you would have thought she was going to bust. I could tell she really wanted to speak English to me right then: "Oh, yummy, yummy, yummy! Throw it now! I need it!"

I didn't want her to gobble it all up though, so I threw her a couple of pieces and then I threw a couple pieces to the stupid cat. I'm not trying to be mean, but it's just that I could put a piece of food right under the cat's nose and it wouldn't find it and the dog would gobble it up. So I told Sara (the dog) to sit when I threw the meat to the cat. She didn't. I got mad and swatted her hard on the rear, and told her to sit again. She sat this time and suffered while the cat slowly picked at a piece of brisket. Then I told her "okay" and she could move. I was quite proud of myself for teaching the dog a lesson.

Back in the house I noticed my thumb hurting. It was blue. I hurt it when I hit the dog. I couldn't believe it. I even wondered if I broke it. I don't think so, but it hurts all the same. I figure it will take a couple of weeks for it to get back to normal. Next time, Johnie, just throw the brisket in the trash, and don't hit the dog.


--Johnie