Pugies

I stick my foot in my mouth at least once a day. Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say that my foot is permanently in my mouth. It tastes funky and all, but it’s better just to leave it there. I get used to the idea this way and am not as shocked when I say something that offends or is taken the wrong way.

This all started in grade school. I rarely gossiped, but when I did, the person I was talking about would always seem to walk into the room I was talking about them in right as I was talking. One time, it was about a teacher. I turned bright red. Turning bright red is something else that I do every day. Really, I shouldn’t even bother to wear makeup.

I turned red last night. My husband and I have a pug named Gus who is the undeniable light of our life. It’s kind of scary sometimes, but we justify it because we don’t have children. When we have kids, we say, they will be the lights of our life. We do want them to call the dog "Mr. Gus" though.

Anyway, last night I was driving and Nick was in the passenger seat and we came upon a woman who was walking two pugs. I kept going, thinking it wasn’t anything worth stopping for or getting all crazy about. Nick would have stopped the car. Good thing he wasn’t driving. As we passed the woman, he rolled his window down, threw his torso out of the window, hung his head as far away from the car as possible and said (in as girly/dorky of a voice as you can imagine) "pugies!!!!"

I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My adult, very masculine husband had turned into a silly teenage girl when he saw two pugs walking down the street. My face was red as I sped away from the scene. "I can’t believe you just did that," I kept saying.

We made a stop to pick up a loaf of bread and on our way home, this time while driving down a busy street, passed the same woman and the two pugs. I thought for sure the adventure was over and we could drive by the dogs like normal people. I was wrong. With cars in a line behind us to witness the scene and the holdup it was going to cause, Nick rolled the window down again and said, "I’m sorry if I freaked you out before. It’s just that we have a pug."
Is the fact that we have a pug an excuse? Or is it evidence that we are way too fond of our four legged child?