Friday, April 17, 2009
Where's The Lint Brush
WHERE’S THE LINT ROLLER
It’s that time of year again. Spring. I do not start cringing because it is allergy season, or it has been raining for five days straight, or even that my weekends are booked solid with weddings, graduations, and garage sales. I cringe because I cannot see my couch under the dog hair. I cannot walk through the house without a hair cloud forming at my feet. I cannot get the clothes from the basket to the drawer without them all looking like a cashmere sweater. (Cashmere underwear is not cool.)
I have two beautiful, hairy, Shelties. Nine months out of the year I love them dearly. Come Spring that love…well…shall I say, wanes. Two weeks ago I started vacuuming twice a day. Masking tape lint rollers became my best friend. I put a sign on the front door. “People in black clothing, enter at your own risk.”
My husband has tried to stay up with the brushing. Last time we collect enough to make a queen-size pillow, for a moment…just a moment…I gave credence to that idea
After brushing the youngest, Bella, I became concerned. “Oh my gosh, William, something is terribly wrong with Bella.”
“What are you talking about” William replied while shaking his head at the hysterical sound of my voice
“She’s emaciated. She must be sick. Quick get the phone and call the vet.”
“Honey,” he sighed. “Bella has always been that size, you just thought she was fatter because of all that fur.”
I jumped up and headed down the hall.
“Therese, were are you going?” William said, concerned he had hurt my feelings.
“To shave my head and body.”
“What?”
“Well…if losing hair makes Bella look skinner…maybe…”
The look on his face brought me back to reality. Oh well, it was a glimmer of hope for a moment.
I heard a gagging sound from the other room. I went to investigate. Blue, the older of our Shelties, just threw up a hairball. I thought only cats did that! Another bad assumption. As I cleaned it up and was rethinking dog ownership, I heard our daughter shouting from downstairs, “Mom, the dryer quit running.”
“What are you washing?” I shouted back.
“My bedspread”
The dogs sleep with her. “Check the lint trap, I bet it is clogged with dog hair.”
“Ew, its really gross.” She whined. “Oh, also, have you seen the lint roller?”
“I just bought a five pack, look a little harder, surely they can’t be gone already!”
Time for a nap, I think to myself. As I lay back in my lazy boy I wondered, can you donate dog hair to Locks for Love?
It’s that time of year again. Spring. I do not start cringing because it is allergy season, or it has been raining for five days straight, or even that my weekends are booked solid with weddings, graduations, and garage sales. I cringe because I cannot see my couch under the dog hair. I cannot walk through the house without a hair cloud forming at my feet. I cannot get the clothes from the basket to the drawer without them all looking like a cashmere sweater. (Cashmere underwear is not cool.)
I have two beautiful, hairy, Shelties. Nine months out of the year I love them dearly. Come Spring that love…well…shall I say, wanes. Two weeks ago I started vacuuming twice a day. Masking tape lint rollers became my best friend. I put a sign on the front door. “People in black clothing, enter at your own risk.”
My husband has tried to stay up with the brushing. Last time we collect enough to make a queen-size pillow, for a moment…just a moment…I gave credence to that idea
After brushing the youngest, Bella, I became concerned. “Oh my gosh, William, something is terribly wrong with Bella.”
“What are you talking about” William replied while shaking his head at the hysterical sound of my voice
“She’s emaciated. She must be sick. Quick get the phone and call the vet.”
“Honey,” he sighed. “Bella has always been that size, you just thought she was fatter because of all that fur.”
I jumped up and headed down the hall.
“Therese, were are you going?” William said, concerned he had hurt my feelings.
“To shave my head and body.”
“What?”
“Well…if losing hair makes Bella look skinner…maybe…”
The look on his face brought me back to reality. Oh well, it was a glimmer of hope for a moment.
I heard a gagging sound from the other room. I went to investigate. Blue, the older of our Shelties, just threw up a hairball. I thought only cats did that! Another bad assumption. As I cleaned it up and was rethinking dog ownership, I heard our daughter shouting from downstairs, “Mom, the dryer quit running.”
“What are you washing?” I shouted back.
“My bedspread”
The dogs sleep with her. “Check the lint trap, I bet it is clogged with dog hair.”
“Ew, its really gross.” She whined. “Oh, also, have you seen the lint roller?”
“I just bought a five pack, look a little harder, surely they can’t be gone already!”
Time for a nap, I think to myself. As I lay back in my lazy boy I wondered, can you donate dog hair to Locks for Love?
Friday, April 3, 2009
WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?
HAVING AN ARGUMENT WITH MY SIXTEEN YEAR OLD REMINDED ME OF THIS JOURNAL ENTRY I WROTE A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO. IT SEEMS A TIMELESS TRUTH.
What Would Jesus Do?
I’ve heard the term; What Would Jesus Do? In fact, it is a big market term these days for Christian entrepreneurs. It is sold on T-shirts, bracelets, and stickers, all in the hope of influencing our teenagers into better behavior. They supposedly hear this yelled at them by their parental unit, contemplate their actions and change them accordingly. However, when I tried this tactic, suddenly Jesus becomes the all to human man. The name dropping backfires on my intent to bring about the corrected behavior in my teen. Instead all too clever children, shoot back what they think Jesus would do, or has done. Here are a few of my favorites:
A friend of mine looked at her son’s disheveled appearance, hair unkempt and a hole in each knee of his jeans. She innocently asks him to walk a couple of feet behind her so no-one will no he is hers. He blurts out, “Jesus loves us just the way we are.” True, She thinks, but then he doesn’t have to put up with the stares of neighbors that know she drives a Porsche and can afford to dress her child properly. Is that sirens she hears? The child neglect unit maybe?
Another friend’s son came home with alcohol on his breath. She scolded, “How could you drink?” She then reminded him of his Sunday school teachings. “ What would Jesus do?”
“ Well,” he replied, “ Jesus drank, in fact mom, his first miracle involved alcohol. Remember, he turned water into wine! In fact he did it for his Mother!”
My best loved one was; as entering my teenage daughters room and discovering that it was very close to being the worlds third largest dump, I yelled out at her, “What’s wrong with you? Were you born in a barn?”
She very quickly replied, “Jesus was born in a barn and he turned out okay didn’t he?”
I can envision it now, Mary, yelling at Jesus when she finally found him in the temple, “What were you thinking running off like that?”
Jesus rolling his young eyes at his earthly parental unit and responding, “Making sure future teens have an excuse.”
Aahhhhh! Wait, I think I have it. I tell my child, “ If you don’t straighten up, no i-pod, no cell phone, no computer, No Technology! JESUS had no technology.” That brings about complete silence.
Bless All, Therese M. Guy
What Would Jesus Do?
I’ve heard the term; What Would Jesus Do? In fact, it is a big market term these days for Christian entrepreneurs. It is sold on T-shirts, bracelets, and stickers, all in the hope of influencing our teenagers into better behavior. They supposedly hear this yelled at them by their parental unit, contemplate their actions and change them accordingly. However, when I tried this tactic, suddenly Jesus becomes the all to human man. The name dropping backfires on my intent to bring about the corrected behavior in my teen. Instead all too clever children, shoot back what they think Jesus would do, or has done. Here are a few of my favorites:
A friend of mine looked at her son’s disheveled appearance, hair unkempt and a hole in each knee of his jeans. She innocently asks him to walk a couple of feet behind her so no-one will no he is hers. He blurts out, “Jesus loves us just the way we are.” True, She thinks, but then he doesn’t have to put up with the stares of neighbors that know she drives a Porsche and can afford to dress her child properly. Is that sirens she hears? The child neglect unit maybe?
Another friend’s son came home with alcohol on his breath. She scolded, “How could you drink?” She then reminded him of his Sunday school teachings. “ What would Jesus do?”
“ Well,” he replied, “ Jesus drank, in fact mom, his first miracle involved alcohol. Remember, he turned water into wine! In fact he did it for his Mother!”
My best loved one was; as entering my teenage daughters room and discovering that it was very close to being the worlds third largest dump, I yelled out at her, “What’s wrong with you? Were you born in a barn?”
She very quickly replied, “Jesus was born in a barn and he turned out okay didn’t he?”
I can envision it now, Mary, yelling at Jesus when she finally found him in the temple, “What were you thinking running off like that?”
Jesus rolling his young eyes at his earthly parental unit and responding, “Making sure future teens have an excuse.”
Aahhhhh! Wait, I think I have it. I tell my child, “ If you don’t straighten up, no i-pod, no cell phone, no computer, No Technology! JESUS had no technology.” That brings about complete silence.
Bless All, Therese M. Guy
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