When A Couple Is Puppy Training
By: Ann Brown
I was going to add my blah blah blah to the Todd Akin thing but, honestly, I am too tired.
Oh, wait. Maybe just this one thing:
His logic is kinda awesome. Like, I am pretty sure I legitimately ate five bagels yesterday so, according to Akins, my body will shut down and I will not gain weight.
But enough of politics. I’m too tired for any more anti-douchebag bon mots. And I don’t have much time to get this post written – Mom is flying in at 2PM this afternoon (or maybe at noon. Or maybe yesterday. I have no idea. I am so fucking tired) and I still have to ready the guest room. And by “ready” I mean dust the furniture and hide Robin’s pornographic magazines.
Ha ha, that’s a joke. Robin’s pornography is on the computer. Duh.
I have no idea what to do with Mom this weekend. She lives a very full and active life in LA – theater, dinners, parties – and when she comes to Oregon, I feel I need to keep up the level. Which is challenging because my lifestyle is less go go go than Mom’s in that my lifestyle is mostly day drinking and making fun of Mom.
Plus, I am so fucking tired.
Because of Phila.
Which is Robin’s fault ™.(Yup, I’ve trademarked it.)
I am getting no sleep at night. Oh, Phila goes happily into her little playpen at night when Robin and I get into bed and turn off the light. We say, “Good night, Phila.”
And then it’s quiet for about three minutes.
And then I say, “God DAMN it, Robin, get your hands off my boobs. No means no.”
And then it’s quiet for a few minutes. I begin to drift off to sleep.
And then Phila begins her remodeling.
That’s what I presume she is doing. I hear shuffling, scraping, hammering, power tools. In the morning, her playpen is in a completely different shape than it was when she went to bed. They say Poodles are smart; what they don’t tell you is that they are also chock full of great design ideas. I swear to God, she built a sort of loft in there last night. With a bookshelf. And a mini bar.
Puppy training is going well, by which I mean, Robin is doing all of it. Robin’s job is to get up at 5AM, take Phila out to pee, feed her, walk her, play with her, and get ready for work while she hangs out with him. Then when he gets home from work, his job is to take her to the park, feed her, train her, and play with her until bedtime.
My job is to remind Robin that I voted NO on getting a puppy.
It has quite revolutionized our marriage. Robin says things like, “Honey, would it be okay if you watched Phila for five minutes while I pass a kidney stone?” And I answer, “Umm, no, that isn’t gonna work for me. Michael Kors is just about to critique Alicia’s crotch.”
And he crawls back downstairs to vomit and scream into a rag stuffed in his mouth.
Because I voted NO on the puppy.
The other day, just to fuck with him, when he got home from work I told Robin that Phila had taken up my whole day and I couldn’t get a thing done, so he needed to take her out of the house for at least four hours. Plus, I needed to hire a cleaning crew because I couldn’t get to cleaning the house. Plus, I was going to order Thai from the expensive place because, you know, I couldn’t get to cooking, either. Plus, I needed to get the sleeveless linen dress on page 42 of the JJill catalogue. In “limeade”. Or white. And Bee Kind lemon shampoo from Gilchrist and Soames.
Because of Phila.™
Because there was a vote.
Speaking of which, Todd Akins is a douchebag.