Last weekend Jen, Cindy and I had our monthly get-together dinner. Now that the guys are on a new schedule (their hubses were a couple of Noah's academy buds), the fellas'll be able to join us now, too. So Jen and Will live just around the corner from us. Literally. Like we can see their front porch from our front porch. We can also see in their bedroom window if we set up the telescope.
Anyhoo, we loaded up the stroller with about 3,000 toys and the fully loaded diaper bag, including change of clothes--because one of Ethan's favorite jokes is to do a giant poop whenever we go someplace where giant poops are anything but convenient.
Ethan had spent the day with Noah's parents, and they and our sister-in-law (also named Jen, who is staying with them temporarily while starting an accelerated nursing program) brought the little munchkin home about 15 minutes before we were to make our way over to dinner. We visited, we had a few laughs, we made the 64 trips that it takes to unload a car that has recently transported a baby. Then Noah, Ethan and I went to dinner.
About three hours later, we walked home. As we approached the house, we heard...Cody. Barking. Which is nothing unusual, except Cody was supposed to be asleep in our bedroom and not outside. Noah and I looked at each other questioningly before realizing the awful truth that our dog was pacing back and forth on our front lawn, howling at us (because of the darkness, he couldn't see who we were.)
What happened in those three hours will forever remain a mystery. We conjectured that the dog let himself out through the storm door (one of HIS endearing tricks) and nobody noticed in the flurry of activity. I'm just glad he didn't get hit by a car or abducted. But darned if I wasn't proud to see that fierce beast protecting the homestead instead of gallivanting around the neighborhood causing trouble (which he probably did for the first two hours, really). I love that dog.