Free Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies) by Jill Smokler Page A

exercise, and, of course, the teaching of responsibility. The most loving and responsible adults had dogs when they were children, he pulled out of his ass like he had spent years hypothesizing it. We went around in circles for weeks, me gleefully wearing all the black I could without it being covered in dog hair, and him pointing out any time one of the children did something the least bit irresponsible. Having a pet of their own will make the kids more responsible, he insisted. As he does about most things, he wore me down, and in the fall, we brought home a new puppy.
    A sweet golden retriever, just like Penelope, Maisy will be the dog who is prominently featured in childhood pictures, greets the kids after school, and hopefully, will even be around to see Lily off to college. She will be our family dog, and they will infinitely benefit from having her. And most of all, this dog willbe the one to teach my children about responsibility and whip them the hell into shape.
    Or, not.
    Back when Jeff was busy convincing me that getting a pet would make our kids more responsible (what a fucking liar), I made a list in my head of all the ways this prediction would come true.
    They’ll be more responsible about putting their stuff away, I told myself. Now, five months into the Maisy Era, I can say that’s not exactly how it has turned out. The minute my kids come in the door, they kick (Kick! They don’t even have the courtesy to toss) their shoes on the floor. Next come their coats, and their backpacks follow. I have warned them a million times that Maisy will chew their shoes and their homework. And, of course, they haven’t heeded my warning. Lily’s new Uggs are discolored due to excess dog saliva. And on more than one occasion, Maisy has literally eaten Ben’s homework.
    Well, I told myself, at least having a dog will help make the kids more responsible when it comes to being gentle with pets. Yeah, not really sure how that is working out, either. I am totally convinced that Maisy thinks Evan is a puppy, and she plays with him as if he were her littermate. And he loves it. He puts his face in her mouth, and her face in his mouth. He rides her like a pony, and I once saw him trying to put her in a chokehold. While I had hoped that having a puppy would make my kids veterinarian-like in their care and concern for animals, I worry that they’re actually becoming more like Michael Vick instead.
    I had high hopes for all the other ways in which bringing Maisy into the family would make my kids more responsible.Additional dog duties will help them balance their daily tasks, I thought. They’ll be more careful not to drop food on the floor or leave it out on the counters. And guess what? Some mornings the dog eats three times, as all of the kids feed her without checking if the other already did, and on other mornings she isn’t fed at all. And as far as kitchen cleanliness goes, my kitchen has never been filthier. Rather than complain to me about finishing their food, now the kids just slyly throw everything they don’t want onto the floor, assuming Maisy will finish it.
    As you might guess, poor Maisy has diarrhea. All the time.
    In the long list of times I should have known better than to listen to my husband, this is near the top. I’m already plotting my revenge, though. I’m trying to convince him that getting a vasectomy will make me want to have sex with him more.
    Fool!
    Babies Versus Puppies
    When babies have a tummy ache, they contain the mess to their diapers. When puppies have a tummy ache, they insist on taking it out on your lightest-colored rug.
    When babies teethe, they simply fuss. When puppies teethe, they ruin your favorite pairs of shoes.
    When babies need a bath, they can be gently washed down in a baby bath tub and dried off with a small towel. When puppies need a bath, the bathroom looks like it’s survived a typhoon and every towel in your house is sopping