Saturday, September 13, 2014

A Trip to Normal

It's Saturday morning and our home is peace-filled.

Yes, The Hubster is off to a breakfast meeting for work. Manlet is sleeping off his high school football game from last night. Our dogs are done patrolling our property for nocturnal marauders that may have uninvitedly left strange scents whilst said pups were snoozing. Stretched full length across the livingroom floor, they are once again snoozing.

Such is a dog's life. At least in our home.

As I nurse my third cup of coffee, I contemplate my day thus far.

Darkness still permeated every corner of the house when my eyes popped open this morning. I tried to lay still in order to avoid waking Steve.

I couldn't. Lay still, that is.

Slipping out of bed as gently as possible, I slid into my robe and fur-lined mules and quietly let myself out of our room.

Not a single creak or noise so far.

Traversing the hallway, I attempted to enter the kitchen in order to make coffee, but the dogs were instantly at the basement door begging to be let up.


Letting them enter our main floor abode means that they will make a beeline to Hubby and wake him up. Finn, unfortunately, is able to open doors. Sadie is close on Finn's tail, so into our room they bound. 

"Ooooohhhhh!" squeals a falsetto voice. "What do we have here?"

'Ummm, Dear Husband,' I think to myself, 'we have dogs.'

"What a good boy! What a good girl," drones an irritatingly high pitched monologue. The Hubster's normal tone is a rich, full bass.

I cringe. My spouse's falsetto voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, although I wonder how many people these days even know what that sounds like since everyone tends to use whiteboards now.

As I fill the coffee pot reservoir and dump fresh grounds into the filter basket, the thumping and whining continue to echo from down the hallway. I can hear the dogs making noise also.

Now, if I would have woken Steve up, there would have been a near knock down, drag out fight. If the dogs wake him, no problem. Makes me wonder if I can be reincarnated as a canine companion to him. 

Which would give a whole new meaning to "I hate to say it, but your wife is a real dog".


Or would that just be normal?