And that’s how you get kicked out of school.


Hold on, I’ve been refreshing my email since I got home.

I’m waiting on an email from the school principal.

By now, she’s probably been notified about the incident after school.


You know when the class “trouble-maker” does something bad and the whole class gets punished for it? I’m waiting for a new school rule to be announced to punish other families.


No, Emma and Kate are good kids. They don’t listen to Scott and me but they somehow listen to their teachers. But we are the Burtons and I swear this shit only happens to me.

Stella shot up to legend status after school today.

Legend status. Stella, the big black dog that will stand the test of time. New school rules written because of her heroic entrance onto school grounds. She busted out of the car in the name of her friendly breed, the labrador retriever. No dog has come that close to setting a paw inside the school.

She did it. She put a paw inside the school.


We live far enough away that I drive the kids to and from school.

On the rare occasion, I bring Stella with me to pick up the girls. Today was a rare occasion. I thought she could use the fresh air. The school staff hates me.


The wait in the school car line started out fine. I caught up on some emails, I helped write a rap song for my friend’s baby book, and then I talked to Scott on the phone. Stella waited with her eyes on the prize.


The school bell rang. Cars inched forward. I made my way to the front of the school. I saw Kate running toward the car with a smile on her face.

Oh, she looks happy today.

“Hi, Kate!”

I waved.

Kate opened the door.

“Oh no, wait!”

Gone. Stella was gone.

A wave of screams pierced the air. Brothers protected their sisters with backpacks. Teachers grabbed their walkie talkies and ran towards Stella. All eyes went to the black blur jumping on kid after kid. Stella’s big tongue crossed over every face she could reach.

I rolled my window down.


Kids moved in swarms from spot to spot in the grass. Boys dive-bombed Stella. Stella jumped on teachers. Stella knocked down a girl. The girl cried.


What do I do? I don’t know what to do. Do I get out? Do I…no, I shouldn’t film this.

A teacher walked up and down the sidewalk.

“Whose dog is this?! WHOSE DOG IS THIS!!”

“Oh, um! Hey!”

I slowly lifted my foot off the brake and rolled forward alongside the teacher.

“Mine. She’s mine. I’m sorry! What do I do?! EMMA AND KATE STOP LAUGHING! GET HER! GET HERRRR!! Should I get out?”

“No, stay here and we’ll get her. What’s her name?”

“Stella. I’m so sorry.”

Emma runs by, laughing.

“That’s my dog! STELLL-LAAAAA!”

I could feel the helicopter parents hovering behind me. They had the principal on speed dial.

“Stellaaaa! STELL-LAAAAAA!!”

Oh my God, this is a nightmare. I’m going to get sued for having a dog that loves to play with kids. They’re going to talk about me on News Talk radio tomorrow. They’re going to make a joke about that old movie with the man screaming, “Stella!”


Stella ran towards the open door into the school.


NO! I’m going to have to chase her up and down hallways. She’s going to knock over desks and leave paw prints on white boards. They’re going to send my kids to private school after this. We can’t afford that! 

Stella placed one paw inside the door. A teacher grabbed her collar and yanked her back.

Oh, whew. Ok, it’s ok.

Emma hopped in the car. Her face was red and she had the hiccups from laughing so hard. Kate pushed her way in. The teacher dragged Stella back into my car and shut the door.

“Stella wanted to go to school, mom!”

“Please don’t tell your dad.”

The girls called Scott.

Scott knows. I heard the disapproving, “Oh, Julie” over the phone. But it really should be “Oh Stella.”

It crossed my mind that maybe it’s in my head. This probably happens all the time. Many families in the area have friendly labs.

And then Emma’s friend rang our doorbell. Emma asked her if she heard what Stella did after school.

“THAT was STELLA?! Our teacher told us to stay inside because there was a big dog running around!”

And that’s how legends are made.

I’m waiting to read the disapproving email.



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I swear this only happens to me.

And I thought yesterday’s blog post was embarrassing.

Last night, I took Kate to the grocery store. Scott took Emma to Home Depot. I definitely got the worse end of the deal.

Before I left with Kate, I chugged a large protein shake. I was extremely thirsty after working out and just wanted to finish it so I could get out of the door.

I arrive at the grocery store and get Kate out of the car. I notice she doesn’t have shoes on. Whoops. I told her I would just carry her in then put her in the “car” part of the kid carts. I put her in the car and start shopping.

About half way through our shopping trip, Kate wanted out of the car. I told her since she didn’t have shoes, she would have to sit in the front carrier part of the cart. She was ok with that. I popped her in and continued shopping.

Then all of the sudden, I get hit by the protein shake. I drank it too fast. Painful gas bubbles start forming in my stomach. My stomach got hard and started to pouch out. Ugh.


What’s wrong, mommy?

Oh, my tummy is hurting really bad. Uh Oh! Shit. Why did I tell her that???!?


No. I don’t have to poop. It’s ok. I just drank my shake too fast. I have to fart!


Kate made a point to tell every single person we passed in the aisles that I had to poop. I rolled my eyes and laughed to everyone that paid attention to her.

I threw her favorite yogurt in her lap and told her to hold it for me. She was quiet.

By the time I get all my groceries, my stomach was KILLING ME. Butt clenching and tip toe walking, I start to frantically look down each aisle, hoping for an empty aisle to fart in. No luck. Mondays at dinner time is a popular time to grocery shop, apparently. I tip toe to a line. There were two people in front of me. Finally, the woman in front of me was paying. The cashier looks our direction.

Oh, what a pretty dress she has on!

Thank you.

Oh, it’s just darling! Especially the back! The back of the dress! (She points)

Taking the hint, I look at the back of Kate.

SHE IS MOONING EVERYONE FROM HER SEAT. The child didn’t have underwear on!! When I put her in the carrier part of the cart, her dress flipped completely up the back. She mooned every single person that walked by us. Not only was she sitting bare cheeked for everyone to see, she also got the attention of everyone by telling them I had to poop. Not to mention, I was butt-clench walking.

I pull Kate’s dress down from the back. Kate yells at me to leave her dress alone. I firmly tell her no and continue to force the dress down, covering her. The cashier took cue and distracted Kate by asking her questions. That worked. I was rung up and I paid. Another employee brought up a new cart because they don’t like those “car” carts outside. The cashier asked if I needed help out. Desperately needing to fart, I told her I could carry Kate and push the cart fine. Just get me outside. She insisted one of the bagger boys help me. She called one over. Damnit. The young man took my cart while I carried Kate, tucking her dress over her butt.

The young man was chatting about how nice the weather was and how he was graduating soon. I was in no mood to chit-chat. I “uh huh’ed” the whole way to my car. I honestly thought I was going to die from the internal pressure trying to force its way out.

We finally get to my car. He starts loading the groceries for me. I buckle Kate in her car seat. I couldn’t take all the movement. I squeaked one out. I was hoping the wind would cover the sound. But uh, no, it didn’t. The young man stops talking mid-sentence. I freeze next to the trunk of my car. I shut my eyes and start to shake from trying to hold a laugh. I couldn’t take it. The kid was silent, just loading the bags in one by one. I started laughing and farting at the same time. Oh my gosh! I have never been so embarrassed and humored at the same time. I got ahold of myself and told the kid thank you. He runs away. I get in the car and really start deflating. I spent a good 2 minutes bombing the inside of my car up. Kate asked me to start the car and go home. She had to pee.


I rush home, encouraging her to hold it for me.

She ended up peeing all over her car seat.

And I am still farting as I type.