This morning the Schillings asked if they could come over to retrieve their frying pan. We had them over for dinner last night and we made gingerbread pancakes. We borrowed their frying pan so that the making of the pancakes could go a little faster. And then we stayed up too late playing Phase 10 and talking politics and never got around to doing the dishes, so they just left it here.
But I suppose when you have like 1 pot and 1 pan you kind of need your pan back. We totally understand that. We have 1 pan and 2 pots and consider ourselves very lucky.
So we washed the dishes...actually Andrew washed the dishes and I did laundry...and then the Schillings came over.
We told Rachel that they would be coming over, so she was looking forward to hearing a knock at the door. What we didn't tell Rachel was that they would be coming over on their way home from walking Bonaparte.
Bonaparte is a dog, and a pretty big dog at that. He belongs to some members of the branch who went to France for the holidays. The Schillings are babysitting him for them.
The doorbell rang and Rachel ran to the door, very excited to see who was there.
"I think there's a dog at the door, Rachel," I said.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Rachel screamed. She ran away from the door and all but climbed into my arms.
I picked her up before answering the door. Carolee was standing in front. Josh and Bonaparte were hanging out several feet away.
Rachel freaked out.
As usual she really wanted to like/meet the dog, but only as much as she didn't want to. She would wave at the dog and make the dog sound and then cower into my shoulder and scream.
She was quite glad when Bonaparte went home, but was still pretty nervous. She wouldn't let me put her down and was really clingy and whiny.
"Did a dog come to our house?" we asked.
"Yeah," Rachel whined.
"Did you like the dog?" we asked.
"Were you afraid of the dog?"
"Do you want a dog?"
"No, no, nooooo!"
"Do you want a cat then?"
"Do you want a pet, ever?"
"No, no, no!"
There you have it. We are off the hook. We will never have to get a pet because Rachel is so afraid of every animal she lays eyes on.*
She's still pretty terrified of the door. Our upstairs neighbours have twin girls and they just walked up the stairs. I know because I heard them. Rachel heard them, too.
"Ooo-ooo-ooo!" she barked and then screamed and pointed at the door.
"Did a doggy visit us today?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said.
"Is it there now?"
"I think that's just some girls..." I said.
"No," said Rachel, "GOG!"
So no pets for us.
*We realize she will probably end up begging us for a pony, puppy, or kitten in 4 years regardless of how afraid she is of them currently.