Dog Days

54535845458086990_xmItux6W_cMy three kids had been begging for a dog for years so this Christmas we finally caved in and decided to buy one. We spent three hours at a nearby shelter “interviewing” all the dogs. There were so many cute dogs, but there was one in particular that crawled into our hearts.

He was a beautiful, soft, golden retriever puppy. The kids were thrilled. We were told to wait until the next day so the dog could have his final checkup.  I sent my husband to the shelter bright and early the next morning to pick up our new puppy.

When he got home, we all ran to the car to greet our new family member. To our huge surprise, we were not greeted by a golden retriever puppy but by some large animal that looked like a pit bull. You can imagine the hysteria from the kids. My husband didn’t understand….he said, “what do you mean, this is the same dog.”. We thought he was kidding but the look on his face was pure confusion.

When we not so calmly explained that this fierce looking pit bull type dog wasn’t even close to our cute little retriever puppy, he said he understood and rushed back to the shelter to pickup our dog. We ended up getting the right dog, but who confuses a mangy looking pit bull with a golden retriever puppy?

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A Lame 30th Birthday

We’ve heard this before. He promises a great surprise and then when the gift arrives… well, you can come to your own conclusions about this one.

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Abt Noam

Our son, Alex, was finishing up his senior year of college, and he and his friends were scrambling to secure jobs.  He had a good friend named Noam, who had been offered a paralegal position at a law firm in Washington, DC.  He was pleased to have a job offer, but he had really wanted to work in their NY office.

When Alex came home for the weekend, he asked his dad if he knew any lawyers at the law firm in question.  “Sure,” said Fred.  “I went to college with a couple of the guys who are now partners.  What do you need?”

Alex asked his father to contact one of the partners to see if he could get Noam’s position switched to NY, without offending the DC office.

“No problem,” Fred replied.

Alex went back to school on Monday, and was a little worried that his dad might forget all about it.  That evening, he sent Fred a text, “don’t forget abt noam.”

Fred HAD forgotten all about it, but this was just the reminder he needed.   He pulled out his Blackberry, and drafted a quick email to his good friend, Phil.  “I am writing to ask for a favor for my son’s friend, Abt Noam.  I have known Abt Noam for about three years, and he is a great kid.  He has received a job offer in your DC office and would prefer to work in NY.  Might you be able to help Abt out?  Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Now, it is pretty important for Fred to get credit for his good deeds, so he blind-copied me on the email.

I read my screen in disbelief.  “What!  Who is Abt?  I know the boy’s name is a bit different, but really…getting it completely wrong?”

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Cooking

 

Burnt chicken Last night my husband finally decided to do the cooking (it’s only been 20 years of marriage for him to make this offer). He’d been resisting of course as his culinary skills are terrible. He’d sooner throw the can of beans at the wall before figuring out that he could open the drawer for a can opener.

So, in his first attempt ever in the kitchen, he started by getting out a recipe book.

He got a saucepan, stuck it on the burner, and lit it.

What next? Oh, yes, fry the chicken. Did he chop it up? No, it was bloody terrible. You’d think that he would see how burnt it became but ALSO no. He added the spices and the sauce and attempted to stir.

He was meant to use Cous Cous.  However, being a bloke, this wasn’t an option so he replaced my beautiful idea of a romantic meal with CHIPS!

Needless to say, the meal looked like what it should have been an hour after I digested it, brown, sticky, and pretty awful.

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The Stickers

car registration stickerWe have two cars. On the lower left-hand corner of each windshield, they have registration stickers and inspection stickers–right next to the local police supporter stickers. This is the standard sticker situation for everyone in NY.

I readily admit that I am not a car person. I don’t call the cars by their rightful branded names–I refer to them as the blue car and the black car. Car maintenance is Fred’s “job”. He washes the cars (periodically), takes the cars in for an oil change (when the reminder light becomes difficult to ignore), and sometimes even monitors the stickers’ expiration dates.

It was early February. The new registration sticker for the blue car had arrived in the mail. It sat on the “outgoing” counter, unnoticed, along with grocery coupons and other stuff for the car. It was the third Saturday in February, before I gently nudged Fred, “Can you please put the new registration on the car?

“Sure,” he said, “after the football game.”

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Football Fan

Football We have three boys, and as you might imagine, the television is tuned to sports 24-7.  My husband enjoys sports, but he is not really a sports nut.  As the boys have grown, they have gotten even more interested in the rules of the game, and they follow the statistics of each and every player.

My husband has been able to “fake” his knowledge for the most part.  However, last Sunday, during the football game, there were several calls by the ref that were questionable.  The three boys started arguing to prove their respective points.  I know my husband wanted to step in as the expert, but he was stumped!

It was then that I noticed him excusing himself to the bathroom with “The Female Fan Guide to Pro Football” tucked under his arm.

Lame?  Maybe.  But, adorable…nonetheless.

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Faux Hawks

MohawkIt was Saturday—a day of errands for him, and a day of rest for me.  At least, that was my plan.  I sent my husband off to the mall with our four-year-old twins, Patrick and Teddy.  They needed sneakers, fleece gloves and haircuts.  The errands were not meant to be challenging.

Off to Fair Oaks they went.  They hit Stride Rite and got cool Velcro sneakers.  They went to Eddie Bauer and got fleece gloves with hidden “spy” pockets.  Then it was time for the haircuts.  I had mentioned to Ed that the boys really like Faux-Hawks–you know– when they get the regular boys’ haircuts, and then spike the middle to resemble a Mohawk for the day?

They went to Cartoon Cuts, the haircut place for kids.  Apparently, Ed did not pay very close attention to my words (shocking).  He signed the boys in and told the stylists that they wanted the kind of cut where the hair was spiked in the middle.  “Mohawks?”  The stylists asked in unison.  “Yeah—that’s it.”  So, they went to work.  They shaved and shaved both sides of both heads.  Pretty soon, all that was left was the long patch of hair down the middle of each boy’s head.

Ed shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat in the waiting room.  Hmmm.  That was not quite what he meant.  But, he plastered a grin on his face and gave his sons a double thumbs up.

But, boy…did I have some choice words for him when he got home that day!

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On The Border

I get embarrassed just thinking about this one.

I was with my husband on a trip in Niagara Falls. We had been on the Canadian side and were about ready to cross back over to the US side. As we were going through customs my husband was driving our large truck and he pulled slowly to the window where the guard was standing.

The guard looks at my husband and says, “What is your nationality?” My husband spouts off “Ohio” (state changed to protect the innocent LOL).

The guard looks a bit irritated and says again, “What is your nationality?” My husband is clearly confused at this point and looks toward me for advice…I said under my breath, “Tell him you are AMERICAN!!!” The whole time I was thinking, “Oh my gosh.

They are going to pull out the SWAT team on us any moment. We are not going to get back across the border!!” I will NEVER forget the expressions on the guards face, my husband’s or the lovely feeling as we finally crossed safely back into the US.

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My Super “Hot” Hubby

My husband and I have been trying to avoid getting bored in our marriage by proactively taking steps to ensure that this doesn’t happen. We have been married 15 years. I am 40 and he is 46. One of the ideas that we came up with was to go dancing at a club like we did when we were younger.

We thought it would be fun to have a contest and see who gets “hit on” the most. We are both good looking for our age, but didn’t quite look like most of the young hip 20s crowd.

After about an hour (and more than a few cocktails), we had enough courage to split up and see who would “win” the bet.

I walked around a bit, saw some appreciative glances in my direction and even managed to get asked to dance. I was feeling pretty good until I saw my husband (with a big goofy grin on his face ) draped in the arms of a woman. Of course, I felt a little pang of jealousy that he so clearly won our bet, but figured fair is fair and let him have his moment of glory. After a few minutes, I strolled over to retrieve him from her clutches. She was very sweet and very pretty and my husband looked like he had just signed with the Yankees.

I told him it was time to go home (hubby looking very triumphant) but as we were walking away, she grabbed us. I thought she was gearing up for a fight, but she giggled and said, “thanks for loaning me your husband. I was trying to get away from a guy that was hitting on me so I told him that your husband was my protective Father and he better stay away.”

I couldn’t stop laughing the entire way home. As you can imagine, that was the last time we went to a club.

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Passed Off Gift

GiftA few years ago my husband was out of town on business for our anniversary. He said he’d gotten something for me on his trip. He’d come back in town late so we went to lunch the next day. As we leave his office together, his assistant hands him a plastic bag. She was trying to be discreet but I saw it. When it’s time to exchange gifts, he pulls a card and gift out of the same bag his assistant handed him. I know the store where the gift was purchased. There isn’t a store where he was on trip.  He didn’t buy anything on that trip! He had his assistant buy my gift and tried to pass it off as his handiwork.

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