This last week Little Ann and her trusty big brother Smokey decided to eat the grease out of our grills grease trap. If you don't know (cause, we didn't) giving a dog to much fat cases them to get very sick... out of both ends.
So, this last week Ann and Smokey have been getting sick off and on and we could not figure out what the hell was going on. They would be fine one minute and then Caleb would come home to an absolute explosion all over our 600 sqft apartment (this happened twice). After two huge blow outs and a lot of worry, we finally diagnosed the issue. The issue was the grease pan in our grill was filled to the brim and the dogs were licking it.
There is a point to this I swear...
On the first explosion, Caleb came home and cleaned it all alone because I was not going to be home and he usually is off work before me. He called me, not knowing what to do, and I had to lovingly walk him through how to handle the mess. I sent my poor man into the battlefield equipped with gloves, Clorox wipes, swifter pads, and some good laughing. Luckily, he came out of the attack with no lives lost, just some emotional trauma and a ton of lit candles to hide the smell.
On the second explosion, Caleb hit the battlefield first and this time I was right behind him. I got home to all the rugs in my apartment rolled into a trash bag and Caleb on the floor with gloves and a Clorox container. Laughing, I started to help clean and an hour later we had an apartment that was mopped and Cloroxed from front to back.
So, what is my point with all this? My point is, after a long day an exploded shit smelling apartment is the absolute last thing you want to deal with. But that is life, sometimes shit really does hit the fan. You can get angry and do nothing about it or, you can grab your battle buddy and get to work.
As I was aggressively mopping the floor, I looked up and saw Caleb scrubbing along with me and I realized we are going to be okay. I realized fuck having an exit buddy. I want a battle buddy.
I want someone who is going to stand with me and fight. I want someone who is going to look at the mess, look at me, and get to work cleaning it up with me. No questions, hesitations, or complaints. That is a partner, that is a team and without that how are you ever going to win in life? If you have no one to go into battle with you are bound to lose.
So, today I challenge you. On your walk, in the shower, before bed, or whenever you have a moment of silence think to yourself, who is my battle buddy? Who will come to fight, not stick around when it is easy and plan an exit when it is hard? Who is going to clean up the shit, not say let’s leave it cause that is easier?
Do you have this person in your life? If so, tell them you appreciate them. If not, you better find one if you want to win.
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