No matter how your day is going, a good laugh makes it go better. To that end, I highly recommend a web site with my kind of humor—cynical British wit that zeroes in on the follies of male-female relationships. Check out “things my girlfriend and I have argued about.” I rarely read something that makes me laugh out loud, and in fact, made me incapable of reading it to Laurel because I was choked up with laughter. But some of the (numerous) postings on this site did just that. Be sure to click on Margret’s photo.
Margret and the author, Mil, seem to have a pretty serious thing going, as two kids are mentioned. So the anecdotes will reverberate with married folks, as well as dating folks. This bit certainly rang true to me:
Margret once said to me, “Am I your favorite woman in the world?” The world? I mean, really. Other times she’ll lay mines so we can explode into an argument later with the minimum amount of run-up. She’ll go out and, over her shoulder as she closes the door, call, “You can vacuum the house if you want.” I’ll settle down on the computer for a couple of hours. When she returns she’ll stomp up the stairs, crash open the door and growl, “Why didn’t you vacuum the house?” I, naturally, will reply, “You said I could if I wanted to. And, after thinking about it, I decided I didn’t. Obviously, it wasn’t a decision I took lightly…” and we’re already there.
Along these lines, Laurel spent last weekend in the Bay Area (of California) with two college-era girlfriends, so I had three days of dog-sitting to manage. I was left with a page of dog-duties to attend to each day, including, “Check on dog periodically to be sure you haven’t forgotten her somewhere while you are engrossed in computer or television.” Laurel felt this rather degrading reminder was necessary because, in the past few weeks, I had (1) left the dog locked by herself in the mostly unused side of the house for several hours, and thought she was quietly sleeping the whole time (which she may have been, actually), and (2) left her tied up outside in the carport one night, and similarly was blissfully unaware of the dog’s whereabouts until Laurel remembered that we had a dog, and wondered where she might be.
Since keeping track of Serena occupied most of my waking thoughts over the weekend, I wasn’t able to accomplish any of the other chores (“you might want to finish cleaning out the garage”) Laurel had over-optimistically suggested to me before she left. I did a great job with the dog, I’d say, since she was ready and waiting to greet Laurel when she walked in the door. My only demerits, assigned after Laurel did her usual walk-through the house to see how I had messed it up while she was gone, were a near-empty dog water bowl (don’t dogs store up water in their hump for weekends they are cared for by husbands?) and an unwashed dog dish (I had no idea dog dishes had to be washed; isn’t that what long tongues are for?).
I got to catch up on some of the sex and violence movies that Laurel doesn’t like, and managed to get through three full days on the leftovers in the refrigerator—plus a stop to buy stir-fry at the Sunnyside Vista Market. All in all, a good weekend. On Father’s Day I took my canine daughter to the Minto-Brown dog play area for a little bonding experience. However, since I forgot to bring water, and it was close to 90 degrees, Serena didn’t hang in on the playing very long. I was impressed that some (responsible) dog-owners were carrying dog water bottles with a slurpable detachable tray into which water could be poured.
Laurel came home with greater insight into the anxieties faced by her divorced female psychotherapy clients, when the kids spend the weekend with their father. But, hey, Serena did just fine with me, as most children do with their dads. Bowls don’t have to be washed daily, and I learned that dogs can handle moderate dehydration.