Drop It

I spend a lot of time chasing the dog and instructing her to "drop it." It might be a house slipper or a pillow. She ignores me and I look like an idiot running around with my whacker.

The husband often asks me to "drop it." I am mentally incapable of this and I blame my mother. I chew on it, stew on it and I want to discuss it to death. Then, I take a short break to gather my thoughts so we can discuss it some more.

So far, I've escaped the whacker.

The Spray Bottle

In my never-ending quest to control the maniac dog, I am open to any and all suggestions. I find her funny and delightful but apparently, I am the only one who holds this opinion.

I've tried the clicker, the whacker and the mean voice.

My mother suggested the spray bottle. I thought this was a little absurd since Labs love the water but as usual, my mother was right. Today was our first day with this experiment and she stopped jumping on people and counters within minutes. If I reach for the bottle, she becomes docile. Why didn't anyone tell me this secret?

Do you think this would've worked with the oldies? "Sit up, Hangdog or I'll spritz you!" Or, "If you fry one more thing in this kitchen, I'll blast you with my spray bottle!" We'll never know.

The only problem with the spray bottle plan is it has now become one more item attached to my person. Two pairs of glasses on my head or buried in my hair, cell phone clipped to a pocket, pen stuck behind the ear ... and now the spray bottle strung through a belt loop. I'm a freak but I'm prepared.

Let Me Check with My Husband

Have you ever tried to master a new language? I took Spanish in high school and college but I learned very quickly that I did not master it. At best, I can do Pig Spanish.

I'm trying to learn a new language and behavior. It's called, "Ask the husband." This is as foreign to me as you asking me to speak Latin. My brain doesn't go there. The good news is this -- neither does his. We're not permission seekers; we're announcers:

Oh, by the way, I'm going on a golf trip next week.
Oh, by the way, the girlfriends are going to the lake and I'm going too.
Oh, by the way, I need you to show up for this dinner or XYZ event.
Oh, by the way, the oldies have this appointment and it's your turn.

On Saturday, I made an impromptu decision to invite some friends over on Sunday to watch our local football team. Chili and sandwiches. Easy enough. I started calling a few friends and they each said, "Let me check with the husband and I'll call you back." The husband in this house did not have a clue that I was planning this little shindig. I knew he wouldn't care and I was right. He thought it was a great idea.

The husband likes it this way. He keeps track of his office appointments and band gigs. I keep track of the rest. Like clockwork, he asks me every morning, "Do we have anything on the schedule for tonight?" Or he announces, "I have band practice." Sometimes it's dinner with a client or some other function. He has never asked, "Do you mind ...?"

But, sometimes our schedules are not in sync. Or one of us will make a decision that the other disagrees with. It's frustrating and I don't like it. So, I decided to try a new behavior. I'll check with the husband. I've only done it twice and both times, he looked at me like I'd just flown in from Pluto.

"Why are you asking me? I don't care."

The oldies discuss everything to death. It's futile and slightly ridiculous. She's going to do it her way. Still, it's probably more polite than our way. So, I'm going to take baby steps in learning this new behavior. I'm not sure I have the stamina. Plus, when the husband gives me that puzzled look, I want to whack him.