How NOT to celebrate your husband's birthday

It was a comedy turned tragedy at the Wilson House yesterday.  I mean, it started out pleasant enough.  I HAD GOOD INTENTIONS.  You see, yesterday my hubby poo turned 28.  A BABY, right?  Oh yes, I robbed the cradle.  But that's neither here nor there.  I love birthdays, but I hate shopping for birthdays because what in the hades does one get their husband for his birthday?  In the end, I decided on an Irish Bomb cupcake from Bird Bakery and a gift certificate to go shoot guns at an indoor gun range in San Antonio.  I personally would hate that gift, but Jared hates work, and apparently shooting a gun to burn some energy might help him to not hate work so much?  I don't know.  It's something he's wanted to do for awhile, so...yeah.  Yea guns!

Well, I felt like Jared needed a little something extra to make the day more special, right?  Not just a boring old card.  So I racked my brain.  I asked myself, what does Jared love more than ANYTHING in the world?  The answer is obvious: THE DOGS.  So I had this brilliant plan that I would have the dogs greet Jared after work with balloons tied to their collars.  After work yesterday, I stopped at HEB and I got a big bundle of helium balloons in all different colors.  I picked up the puppies from daycare.  Then things started to go south right away, because as soon as the dogs got in the car, Bunny started wimpering.  I looked in the backseat, and she was literally cowering down on the floor trying to escape the balloons that were bouncing around the car.  Poor thing was scared to death.  But there was nothing I could do. I told her it would be okay, and we drove onward!  I mean, shoot, we had to get home.

Twenty minutes later, we made it. I pulled into the garage, and shut the door behind me.  I pulled the dogs out one at a time, then the balloons.  Bunny went to the far end of the garage to escape being near them and was still wimpering in fear, so I opened the door and let her escape into the house unscathed. 

Now it was up to Little Dog to carry the birthday torch.  NO PRESSURE, LITTLE DOG.

I tied four balloons to Little Dog's collar.  She looked positively ADORABLE.  We opened the door to the house, and she ran in to greet Jared.  Before I even rounded the corner, I could hear Jared saying, "Awww!!!!  She is so cute!!!"  When I got to the living room, Jared was sitting on his chair, and Little Dog was sitting on his lap licking his face, balloons surrounding them both very sweetly.  It was adorable.  I told Jared to hold tight while I grabbed my camera.  I walked away for, OH I DON'T KNOW...MAYBE FIVE SECONDS??, and all of a sudden I hear the most piercing dog scream of my entire life.  It seriously sounded like Little Dog was being attacked by a wild animal.  So I ran back into the living room, and OMG you guys.  Apparently she got spooked by the balloons, and tried to run away from them, but guess what?  You can't run away from balloons that are tied to your neck.  So I watched her run into the living room, and try to hide UNDER the end table by the couch.  Except she pulled the balloons right under there with her.  And then when she tried to get away again, she was STUCK.  Then she started freaking out, and the balloons started popping. 

The entire time this was happening, Little Dog was screaming.  Have you ever heard a dog scream?  I had never heard a dog scream until yesterday, but dog screams DO exist.  She finally managed to free herself, then ran back to Jared and literally started shaking and crying.   Like seriously...a full on wailing baby cry, except it was coming from our dog.  I had to come pick her up and hold her LIKE A BABY with one arm, while holding Bunny like a baby with the other arm because, OF COURSE, SHE was now scared and shaking too.  Both dogs.  One in each arm.  Both crying, and both shaking.  And now I swear I'm not making this up...both dogs hid their faces in my lap as Jared walked around the room collecting all of the balloons to take to the spare bedroom.  Only when they were totally gone did they unhide their faces, and it was about an hour later that they FINALLY stopped shaking.

The balloons are now in the back bedroom, where they will live out the rest of their helium filled days until they die....locked away in a room where they can no longer torture and scare our sweet dogs. 

So yeah, here's a piece of advice:  Don't tie balloons to your dog's collar.  EVER.