I assured Lola, after my Christmas disappointment, that I would work on her father regarding the "puppy" issue. I imagine the slow chipping away of his resistance--over time--and I've asked her to hang back, keep quiet, and let me handle it.
Yesterday, though, she wanted a progress report:
Lo: Mom, so when do you think we'll get that puppy?
TR: I'm not sure, Lo. I'm giving it a little rest for a couple of days. Can't bombard him too much, you know. I'm afraid if I do that, he'll just get mad and we'll never get it.
Lo: (silence, silence, thoughtful silence...) No. You have to push him.
3 comments:
you really should leave the matter in lola's hands. i think you've seriously hurt your chances by posting this conversation to the blog.
if you weren't married and didn't have a husband to obey and cower to, you could get your own damn puppy.
i'm adding this to my list of reasons to stay single for the rest of my life and also to my running list of things i don't understand about marriage.
Minus, marriage is a partnership. It's not a matter of obeying, it's about negotiation, reasoning, and sacrifice. Oh, and it's also about already having two dogs who've collectively done enough damage to our floors.
And while I will readily admit Lola can pretty much smile and get whatever she wants, my weakness for that doesn't work when it comes to floorpissers.
right on, sarah.
and
shut up greg
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