Barking Up the Wrong Tree

                           
                      Top 3 Things That Piss Ella Off 


                                      1.  Idiot Drivers

                                      2.  Dreaded SIL, Patty

                                      3.  Dogs Barking

At first I started to make a comprehensive list of everything I could think of that pisses me off.  It soon became evident that such a list would be far too long!  There were some great ones, though.  Like people who blab on their cell phones in restaurants.  Like people who can't park between 2 lines.  Like "failing schools" and "failing teachers!"  Anyway, I just picked my top 3 for the purposes of this post.  I think Sam would agree with these choices as we have so many "discussions" about them. 


As far as patience while driving is concerned, that is a very up and down thing for Ella.  Remember the "little girl with the little curl" nursery rhyme?  "And when she was good, she was very, very good.  And when she was bad, she was horrible."  This usually affects my evening commute most often.  You have all heard tales of Ella and the Speedy Little Truck.

  


And, of course, most of my readers would also suspect that the Dreaded SIL would be in the top three as well.  She will probably never slip below the mark - that woman has a remarkable capacity to piss me off.


But I don't think I have ever discussed barking dogs.  For some reason, dogs barking drives me crazy!  Our dogs and anyone else's dogs, too.  Our older dog is a real sweetie but has always enjoyed barking like hell when anyone comes near our house or has the audacity to walk down our street.  The younger dog is not the brightest crayon in the box but has embraced this one bad habit from her older sister.  When someone rings the doorbell, it is as if they feel they must warn everyone in a 5 mile radius of imminent danger.

If we know a friend or family member is coming over, it helps quite a bit to put the dogs in the front bedroom for 5 or 10 minutes before anyone arrives.  They come out happy and calm, and the worst thing might be excessive tail-wagging.  But when there is an unexpected guest, the din is obnoxious.  It is best if Sam deals with this.  He is infinitely more patient than I am.  He will either get them settled or put them in Doggie Time-Out.

But if the barking continues, Ella's temper starts to rise.  I try to be patient, but if pushed, only add to the cacophony.  Many times I have tried to lead them by the collar down the hall, but they are much stronger than I am.  After I got hurt a few times, Sam finally outlawed my "helping" some time ago.  I am to leave it to him.  "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he asked and/or told me.  I thought I did.

So the other night, Son #2 and his lovely fiance came by a bit earlier than planned.  A holy hell canine ruckus ensued!  I started to lose it and felt Sam was not intervening quickly enough.  While

family waited at the front door, I grabbed one dog's collar and started trying to move an unwilling pet down the hall.  Sam's eyes narrowed and his finger pointed at me like the Grim Reaper coming to gather another poor soul.  "Ella, stop it right now!  I will take care of this."  I let go of the dog immediately and opened the front door as soon as I heard Sam close the bedroom door.


Hugged my boy and sweet daughter-to-be.  The four of us talked and enjoyed each others' company.  I had to make a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies for work the next day, so I had mixed up the dough and started popping trays in the oven.  Knew that boy and Sam would start sampling the goods as soon as they were out of the oven.  They did, and the cookies passed inspection.

As soon as the kids left, Sam was back in the kitchen, and it wasn't for more cookies.


"I thought we had settled this problem you have with the dogs?  What did I tell you?"


In my opinion the problem is with the dogs, not me, but I did not say that.  "Um....I forgot.  Sam, you know I hate the barking," I pleaded.

This one is for Meredith

"Tough," he said, his voice just dripping with sympathy.  "Let's go," he continued, standing by the hallway, arms crossed over his chest.


I knew better than to argue; this spanking was going to happen as sure as the fishes swim and the birds do fly.  However, I thought I had the perfect reason for a postponement.  

"But, Hon, I have a batch of cookies in the oven."



He didn't budge but asked, "How long?"  


I looked at the digital timer on the range top and told him, "Three minutes."

"Plenty of time," was the answer.  

In 5 steps he was over to the counter.  In about 10 seconds, I was over said counter with my pants down, and he had some wooden kitchen utensil in his hand.  (Am seriously thinking of moving these to another less convenient location.)  When he started whaling away on my ass, I read the digital countdown.  Now, I have never been able to tell you how long a spanking lasts because of being preoccupied trying to live through it.  This time I can tell you exactly because it said "2:37."  And that is exactly how long this little fast and furious reminder took.  Even though I did not look at the timer again, I know because the timer went off. 


                       "Beep-Beep.... Beep-Beep....Beep-Beep"

"You're cookies are done," he said cheerfully as he delivered one last swat, "and so are we - all in under 2 minutes."  He seemed particularly proud of this.  I certainly wasn't going to correct him on the time discrepancy.  As I was moving cookies to the counter to cool, I suddenly thought of the modern trend called, "speed dating."  Was Sam some sort of trailblazer breaking ground on an even newer novelty?  Speed spanking?  As my bottom and the cookies cooled down, I said to myself, "Let's not even think about that."

                                              Epilogue

We just recently made the switch to Windows 10, and Sam and I were both loving the feature of being able to leave little virtual "Post-It" notes on the desktop.  Besides practical reminders, I embraced them as an innovative way to leave suggestive sexual messages.  Sam, too.  But the morning after the barking incident, the Post-It Sam left for me read, 

                "Just remember - your attitude can be adjusted 
                                  in under 2 minutes."  

                               I much prefer sexual innuendo.