Doggie Day Care

Its Djo-Djo, again. Yes, picking up the slack once again. So, this morning I dropped my little drop of sunshine, Shelby, off at doggie day care, yes, folks, that’s right I pay $22.17 a day and drive 20 minutes out of my way (each way) approximately 3 times a week to make sure my little Shelby gets plenty of exercise and love while I am work. It gets worse, I dress little Shelby up for school... I mean day care, in cute little doggie t-shirts. (In my defense, her entire underside is white and those cute little t-shirts help keep her clean.) It gets better.... there are 2 guys that run the day care. They love asking me all sorts of personal questions as I drop Shelby off and pick her up. If I am dressed up they ask me if I am having a girl’s night or when Shelby missed a few days because I was in Vegas, they asked me who I went with, where I stayed, etc. Most recently, my parents loaned me my old Mercedes Benz (folks, lets be clear this is an old-school eighties mercedes) to use to take Shelby to and from day care. They asked all sorts of questions about the car, what my childhood was like, and concluded, “oh... you were one of THOSE girls.” Naturally, I completely disagreed w/ their assessment. I was nothing like THOSE girls—anyone who knows me, knows that. That’s my point, these guys think they know me, but they don’t. They just watch little Shelby when I am at work and she cant even talk about what I’m really like. Anywho, this morning, I show up post-daylight savings w/ no make-up wearing my husband’s sweat pants only to have them stare at me, give me a look, and say, “Shelby, I hardly recognized your mom today.” I think that extra $.17 I pay goes for the attitude.