It’s raining here. And by the looks of the map, it’s probably raining where you are, too. Unless it isn't (I didn't really watch the weather this morning. I’m just trying to create a sense of community here, people.) On my way to work, I passed a woman in a raincoat waiting for her dog to do his morning business. The dog was also wearing a raincoat. And this got me thinking about dog fashion and how much that woman’s dog must hate her when it rains.
“Lady, I haven’t peed since dinnertime yesterday because you’re too lazy to take me out at night. I really have to go now and you won’t let me go here because ‘No, Peaches, that’s the carpet! Bad dog!’ but you’re making me wait here while you put this ridiculous raincoat on me. I am a dog. I f*cking love the water. My coat is MADE for the water. And I’m going to give you 10 seconds to stop arranging the hood on this coat jauntily before I pee all over this rug and your shoes. So help me, I’ll do it.”
….Peaches seemed to say.
How do I know her name was Peaches? The owner kept chanting, “Good girl, Peaches. Go potty for mommy. Who’s a pretty girl in her raincoat? You are! Yes, you are! Yes, you are. Now come on and do poopsies for mommy.”
I don’t know about your dogs, but if my dog is too distracted by squirrels to drop a deuce, no amount of chanting or calling her a pretty girl is going to make a difference. Just saying. And what in the hell kind of person buys a raincoat for a dog?
Ok. You caught me. I may be a little jealous that they don’t make costumes or raincoats in Lola’s size. They only come in Small, Medium, Large, and Extra-Large. They do not make doggie clothes in size Behemoth.
Ergo, I’m forced to be bitter. But let’s face it, even if they did make raincoats in Lola’s size, I wouldn't go there. Too much time wasted putting it on. And besides, her feet would still be wet, meaning that she would still smell like wet dog. That is, of course, unless you bought the matching doggie rain booties to match.
Did I mention that Peaches was also wearing the color-coordinated rain booties?
|This is not Peaches. This is a random dog from the internet that I found here: |
I think we all know how ridiculous I find this. But to each his own, and far be it for me to judge any of you. I spoon with my labradoodle and make her homemade dog treats from time to time. I’m just as sick as you are. NOT.
But for those interested parties who read and moaned along with me for yesterday’s post, I slept all through the night last night without a single Tums. So that was pretty awesome. I’m crazy groggy today because I forgot what deep sleep was like and my body had become unaccustomed to it. But thank God for modern medicine, right? Thank God for modern most things, actually – I think, anyways. Carter, however, begs to differ.
Carter wishes he lived in the Middle Ages. Whenever we watch Kingdom of Heaven, he always asks, “Babe, don’t you think I would have been an awesome knight?” And while I wish that Hogwarts was real and that I got to take Potions and Charms and Transfiguration and have a pet owl, Carter wishes that Lord of the Rings was real and that he got to go all Medieval-y on some orcs while defending the fortress at Helms Deep. Because he’s crazy.
For Christmas last year, I bought him the deluxe “King’s Package" to Medieval Times. It was like giving an entire crack rock to an addict. …Or something less awful. (Nevermind. That’s terrible. Forget I said that. )
It was like taking a kindergartener to Disney World! (Much better.)
He sat in the front row. I bought him a commemorative flagon for his ale. He yelled at the yellow knight for giving me a rose as a token for me to keep as he went into battle. (He “died” first. Apparently I was really unlucky in the Medieval days as well. Word to the wise: don’t be using me as your lucky charm, Knights of the Round. You gon’ get lanced.)
|This is a terrible picture of me with a horse's ass. Carter made me wear the crown for the picture. This was pre-show. I was not happy about it.|
|This is a really good picture of Carter with a different horse's ass. He is holding his commemorative flagon and willingly wearing his crown. Just like the good knight he is.|
|That's our guy! You can almost hear his horse saying, "Man, I can't believe you made me wear a dress. I'm SO overdressed for this event. Look at all the hoodies out in the audience. This is the last time I listen to you."|
I’ll admit it: he wasn’t the only one to enjoy himself. But that’s the funny thing about Medieval Times. Here’s the thought progression:
Holy shit, there are a lot of weirdos here.
What, you want me to pay $15.95 for a commemorative flagon? Fine. But you’re rubbing my feet later
This is so lame. And you want me to eat this chicken with my hands?
Oh, the show is starting. My, the horses are very pretty.
Oh, so that’s what the colors mean. I’m supporting the Yellow Knight.
No. I am not putting the crown on.
Absolutely not. Over my dead body will you put this crown on me.
What? They’re about to do a real joust?
We’re winning? But you need lots of cheering to boost him onward?
GIVE ME THE F*CKING CROWN!!!!!! I MUST WEAR IT! I MUST WEAR IT ALL THE TIME!
….Or something like that.
Sure, the fake Middle Ages are all flagons of ale and gesters and fake lances and even more fake sword fights and princesses locked in towers by evil wizards and drunkedness and horseback riding. But the real Middle Ages were nothing at all like that. (Okay. So there were flagons of ale. But only because none of the water was potable because it all had shit in it. And no. I am not exaggerating on that one.)
Carter thinks he would have been a Lord or a Duke or something. Wrong-o. Carter is the middle child of 3 boys. His older brother would have inherited the estate. Carter would have been the captain of the guard, most likely, and terrorized the serfs. And his younger brother would have either gone into the church and become a priest to climb the ranks of power in that way, or would have just lazed about the manor house pretending to manage the books. Depending on how nice the eldest is.
So sure, all of Carter’s Kingdom of Heaven battle dreams may have been a reality. But so, too, would the gangrene, lice, slow death from wound infections, and generally bad dental care. Among other things.
And I would have had it worse.
See, here’s the thing: Carter would have lived to be a ripe age of, oh, 35 or 40. That is if he avoided getting stabbed, took relative care of his teeth and weight, didn't wear his leg garters too tightly (To show off those sexy calves, of course. ...And because "socks" was a loose term.), and had a love of vegetables as well as wild boar. ...Or didn't get gored by said wild boar.
I, on the other hand, would have lived to be a ripe age of 17. Oh sure, it was possible for women to live longer, particularly if they gave birth to tiny babies with tiny heads who were not breached, did not have cords around any body parts, and came in a timely fashion. Or if I were a nun. But I would only become a nun if I was too ugly to marry or my family couldn’t afford to feed me. I did have a huge gap between my teeth growing up that wouldn't have been fixed through orthodontia, but a front gap was considered super sexy back then. In the Middle Ages, front tooth gap = modern side boob. So it would have been Procreation Station for me. Le sigh.
Let’s do the math. I am a horribly unlucky person (BLESSED. So very blessed. But unlucky.). Given my lack of luck, I would have married some miller with bad hygiene and syphilis who would carry the genes for babies with GIANT heads in his DNA. I would have married him at like 13, gotten pregnant in the same year, and likely not survived the experience.
That is, of course, if they didn’t burn me at the stake for being a witch because I had managed to attract a demon-spawned dragon burning up my lungs and innards with hell’s fire. This is now known as acid reflux, kittens. But not in the Middle Ages. Oh, no.
Also, did you know that in the Middle Ages, the greatest cause of death was falling in a ditch and drowning? I shit you not. You see, no one could swim. The roads were primitive, but they dug these deep ditches/reservoirs to each side of them so that the rain could drain and the road remain passable. Apparently people would get wasted, forget their lantern, and, not being able to see where they were going, fall in a ditch. Sad, right?
This life expectancy is, of course, assuming I survived to adolescence at all. Here’s another depressing fact for you about mothers in the Middle Ages. They sucked. Most babies weren't even named until they turned two because the mortality rate was so high and even back then people know that if you name something, you get attached. Why was the mortality rate so high? Because Medieval parents sucked. Big time. Moms were really busy just trying to survive that they couldn't be bothered to carry around their babies but weren't nearly as smart as the Native Americans to develop baby-wearing boards (or Papoose). But babies are want to climb out of their cribs, aren't they? So they would make a net out of rope and essentially imprison the baby in their crib. Awesome plan, right? Wrong.
Because here’s the other little fact about Medieval life – the house was the barn. This mean that pigs and chickens would be wandering in and out of the house all the time. The pigs were the least of your worries. Chickens, back then anyways, were apparently huge bitches. They would peck at hay that was too near to the fire and had smoldering edges and drop it into the baby crib. I don’t need to tell you how that story ends. Because, as I said, Medieval chickens are sadistic and bitchy.
Oh. And then we have the Bubonic Plague. I don’t have to write anything more about this than the fact that it killed LITERALLY 1/3 of the population of Europe. 1/3!!!!!!!! And that was just the first time it came around....
So let’s summarize, shall we?
Carter’s View of the Middle Ages
- Inheritance of a large title and manor
- Crusading, only without all the gangrene and waiting around
- Flagons of ale!
Katie’s View of the Middle Ages (i.e. What the Middle Ages Were Actually Like and You Should Believe Her Because Not Only Did She Study it in College, but She’s Also a Genius Who Really “Knows Her Stuff.”)
- Bitchy, murderous chickens
- Sharing your bed with a bitchy, murderous chicken.
- The Black Plague
- Bitchy, murderous water trenches
- Giant-headed babies delivered by the midwife, i.e. the oldest women in the town who didn't die in childbirth. (CLEARLY she must know what she’s doing. Obvi. She’s 34.)
- Venereal Disease
- Horrible food
- Horrible teeth
- Constant fear of the apocalypse
- Constant fear that demons were inhabiting your children
- Constant fear of neighboring warlords
- Constant fear of your own warlord
- No Prilosec. Or allergy pills. Or Pinot Noir.
Why am I harshing your buzz? Two reasons:
1. It’s raining and I don’t want to be at work and I’m cold.
2. I’m so freaking thankful that I live in a time of modern medicine where I can go to a pharmacy and buy Prilosec for my angry tummy rather than go see a priest about being exorcised of me demons before being put on trial for witchcraft (Yea. It’s just that awesome.) and so I'm offering you some perspective on why I'm as thankful as I am!
Ok three reasons:
3. Because I alluded to the Middle Ages yesterday and have been thinking about it ever since and saw that dog in rain boots and thought, “Those medieval people would have eaten that dog, not dress it up.”
So there you go. You have been educated and depressed all in one post! So to lighten it up, and because I’m feeling a little bit silly today, I leave you with this lovely spoof of the Middle Ages from none other than Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
Happy Wednesday, y’all!