We got a dog.
I've never had an inside dog, but since we had dogsat our friends' maltipoo, Lily, multiple times and loved it, we finally decided to adopt a puppy of our own. Auggie is about 5 1/2 months old and he's in the process of getting housetrained. He has just learned how to sit and is now mastering "stay." He looooves his rawhide bones and ALL of his toys - and lives for playing fetch. It's his favorite thing. Besides napping. And being rightnext to us.
Auggie is adorably precious and such a good snuggler. He's actually curled up right next to me on the couch as I write this post. He's a great addition to our household and everybody loves him. (Even if I have used more potty words in the last two months than I ever have in my adult life. Is this like being the mother of a toddler??)
But this post isn't totally about him. It's about my other Valentine - my first Valentine, my husband. Who cracks me UP. (He's also a great addition to our household and everybody loves him.) He and I had the following conversation this morning (a continuation in the *previously* ongoing search for Auggie's middle name):
Jeremy: What about Emerson?
Kristen: Auggie Emerson Hicks. I kind of like it. Like Ralph Waldo?
Jeremy: (Pause) Ralph Waldo who?
Kristen: Ralph Waldo Emerson. He was a poet.
Jeremy: (Quickly) Well, I didn't know it...(Laughter from both of us.) You set that up perfectly.
Kristen: Yeah, yeah. Well, Emerson after who, then? I want it to mean something.
Jeremy: It's the brand of our microwave.
And that, my friends, is how Auggie (probably) ended up with his middle name. As Jeremy says, "The microwave has lasted for sixteen years, so maybe Auggie will live that long, too." Here's hoping!
Posts
