Saturday’s Events

My typical Saturday routine is to wake up at 6:45, shower, drink coffee and have quiet time, and then wake up Aidan and get her ready for her dance lessons in Louisville. I need all the alone “me time” to prepare for the “she time” Aidan requires.

This morning we had an additional variable to contend with — Dixie’s hair cut. Her grooming was scheduled for 8, so I planned to drop her off on the way to Aidan’s dance class.

Aidan was engrossed playing Minnie’s Bowtique on her Leap Pad, so she agreed to wait in the car while I ran Dixie inside (don’t worry, I locked the car and took the keys).

The check-in process for Dixie was unjustifiably long and complicated. We have the same instructions every time — no attachment, clip from head to tail except for her beard. It’s even written on Dixie’s card they keep on file. But the groomer wanted to review the instructions at length, then once more after retrieving her reading glasses. So we reviewed and re-reviewed.

When I finally got back into the car Aidan was still nose-down playing her game. But her mind’s wheels had been spinning while I was away. When I started up the car her head shot-up and she asked, “Is Dixie’s haircut over?” “No babe, it takes a long time. We’ll come back and get her after class.”

I pulled out of the parking lot and a minute later this question: “Daddy, are other dogs cutting Dixie’s hair?”

“No! It’s a person. It’s a nice lady named Lou Anne.”

Aidan, “Oh.”

Minutes later Aidan was sitting in her dance class, wearing her dainty soft-pink tutu, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, and as she was waiting for the class to begin she’s chatting up her instructor really loudly giving her all the past week’s juicy details.

There was a lull as she finished a story and the teacher quickly said, “Okay girls, let’s–” when Aidan interjects and says, “No no no, wait, I have one more thing to tell you.”

And at top volume in the presence of instructors, parents, and other children, she says, “In my preschool there is a boy named _____ who tried to go potty and yelled ‘there’s poop stuck in my butt!'”

When class was over I apologized for Aidan’s lack of filter and her teacher made a joke about writing a book about every thing she’s heard four year olds say.

No harm done.

As we approached home I called the groomer to see if Dixie was ready. The groomer said that she was ready, but the tone of her voice made me wonder.

“Mr. Lewis, we’re giving you a big discount today.”


“We cut off Dixie’s beard.”

Wow. It's Quiet Here...

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