What..you don't need my approval??

Having three dogs and being temporarily unable to walk them due to some minor foot surgery means taking said dogs to the dog park several times a week to preserve sanity (theirs and ours). Since all names have been changed to protect the innocent, I might as well change the dogs' names too...hence, celebrity names that evoke their personalities.

Paris (as in Hilton): Our diva dog..a Bichon Frise, mildly superficial, quite pretty, high maintenance.

Miley: The baby of the family, cute as, well, Hannah Montana (though I am definitely not a fan of HM).

Kate(as in Winslet): Our Aussie, beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, and earnest. Hyperactive as well, but settling down, from a puppyhood best described as "hell on wheels". There is light at the end of this particular tunnel, apparently.

The dog park was created FOR Kate. She needs to run! She needs to be free! She needs to play rough and tumble with the other dogs, and believe me, she is Miss Popular. Kate is primarily my husband Jack's dog. (I have never had a dog like this - and never will again.) After dinner, she knows it's time to pack up and head for the dog park, and she eagerly waits at the door. She is the most intelligent of the three, as well as the leader, and soon the other two are literally underfoot, dogging our heels *cringe*.

I invite Rebecca and Brandon to come along, as I always do. They have both put in appearances there, our friends know them, and a fun time is generally had by all. (Is it sad that the dog park is the main social outlet for us as a couple?) Tonight, however, the kids decline.

"Mom...Becca and I might need to hang out, well, without YOU two always around."

Oh..well, OK! It's date night at the dog park! Jack and I pack up all three of The Girls, and off we go. Carefree evening ensues, all dogs have a blast, and we enjoy our evening, talking with our good friends that we've met there.

We return to the house, and the kids aren't home. Well, I'm glad they went out..after all, we live in Austin and they might as well be out having fun. They most likely went downtown to the clubs on 6th Street. I text them to let them know we're home, and to kinda-sorta find out what's going on. (Texting is a labor of love, I hate it, it takes me forever, but they sometimes they prefer that to an actual phone call. And I know that an innocuous inquiry as to what time they might be home will be better received as a text.)

Jack and I go to sleep, and I hear them come in around 1am. I go downstairs to say hello and goodnight(can you tell this is still a novelty for me?). Smiling, I approach the lights of my life to hug them.

THUD....that was my heart..stopping, and then, once it re-started, sinking.

Both of them have come home with...TATTOOS!!!

(to be continued)