This is another actual event that occurred when I was doing a “sort of good job” being a parent. Many of the events that happen during this time of life are really hilarious after the fact, but my thoughts of ever achieving the Mother of the Year Award, quickly waned after this one.  Funny things happen to me all the time. Either that or I’m not all there and everything just seems funny.

My youngest daughter brought an assignment home to finish for her art class. It was made of paper mâché and when it dried completely, she was able to paint it. She was very proud of her work. It was really cute and she put extra effort into making it worthy of a good grade.

Everyone turned in for the night and the little paper mâché sculpture sat unconcerned on the kitchen counter.

It was one of those nights when I semi-woke up and wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. I wasn’t fully conscious. This wasn’t unusual since I was often found sleep walking. The house was dark. There wasn’t a sound to be heard except the growling coming from my stomach. Even though I was in a dream state, I felt the pangs of hunger.

My hands reached out in the darkness and landed on the dog art. Slowly I lifted the innocent victim to my lips. I opened my mouth and my eyes. It looked like dark chocolate, but it didn’t smell like it. It didn’t smell like anything. My pearly whites wrapped themselves around the morsel and bit down.

It was one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever tasted. I immediately woke, spit the tidbit into the garbage, rinsed my mouth out with water and went back to bed.

The next morning I was sharply awakened by screams coming from my youngest child. I ran to see what happened and there she was with the decapitated dog in her hand.

I had a hard time explaining the truth to my family and to her teacher.  Imagine have to explain that I had eaten her homework.

This event took place about 35 years ago. But we still laugh about it. Finding humor in unlikely situations can make you look like a real idiot or it can help you keep your sanity.