Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

I’ve helped everyone start their homework, and I’ve taken the dog out. He tricked me though and didn’t pee. He just ominously stared into the darkness behind my house. I think he knows just how to freak me out.

Or, he knows something I don’t know about the forest back there.

My house is quiet now. The sophomore is doing her Art History homework, the third-grader is reading a Captain Underpants book. The 6th grader finished his reading (Good Dog) so I think he’s doing scratch or very quiet youtube. It’s quiet though, so instead of checking on him, I write. (I should teach a parenting class, no?)

Did I mention that my house is quiet now?

The dog can sense the quiet so he does his little growl-bark. Again.

“We’ve been through this, Finn.” I tell him.

“If you are lying, I’m going to be mad.” I say as I get up and put my shoes on, open the door and take him out.

He sniffs around. Again. I have to shine the flashlight because if I don’t, that’s when he will find a toad, chase a toad, try to eat a toad, and (hopefully) spit out a toad. I just don’t want to end my night by prying a toad out of my dog’s jaws. Please.

Finn slowly starts towards the back of the house again, and I wonder if maybe this is my small moment of the day; the dog sniffs, the dog barks, the dog is a liar and doesn’t have to pee. “Wow,” I think, “my life is super exciting!” A new thought creeps in though.  I hope my story doesn’t get too exciting, too scary, too interesting. I don’t need a skunk, or a  bear or an intruder.

“What if I can’t even finish writing my slice because I get attacked out here while my kids are inside doing their homework?” (I knew I didn’t like homework)

This thought is interrupted by Finn finally finding a spot to do his business.

Inside, it’s still quiet, but now it’s bedtime. Wish me luck.