People Training

My dog’s trainer’s first trick was to teach me how to shake hands.

Apparently, because I’m a woman, I cannot shake hands like he, a man, can.  In fact, he told me, “Sweetheart, you’re a woman. You don’t have to do that tough shake with me.”  Don’t.Call.Me.Sweetheart. Then he took my hand and moved my wrist so he was holding just my four fingers delicately.  I hate this man.

For the next ninety minutes, he spent most of the time making fun of me.  Apparently The Boy looks way too tough to mess with. Neat.  Three cheers for the fairer sex.

I learned: “No, sit.” “No, sit.” “No, sit.”  

So now my dog somewhat sits. Lettuce call that progress.

And when we left, the trainer corrected my handshake again. He even told me ‘no’. I really hate this man.

After my extensive training session, I’m tuckered out. Tomorrow I’ll detail the changes with my aged pup.  I requested that the trainer teach Dog to pour coffee for me in the morning. I’ll let you know.

Will she bee good?

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Faulty Parent

I had to send my dog to boot camp.

I would like to say first off, before you judge me, that I think it’s society’s fault. She grew up with another family, she was too much for them, so she was then sent to me. The system failed her. She didn’t know English- she only understood Hindi.  You can imagine how confusing that is for a chil…    Furthermore, she watches way too much tv and listens to that damn rap music.  She may have ADHD. I’m going to get her tested. She can’t be controlled. It is not-I repeat- is not my fault.

Basically it boiled down to this:  It was just one too many trash cans.  She rooted around in just one too many trash cans and it was finally the last straw. So when The Boy and I went North (read: The Great White Holy Frack It’s Cold Up Here) for Christmas, my 7 year old dog went for a two-week intensive training course.  Please note that I said my dog.    She is mine whenever she misbehaves or requires a lot of money. But when she’s cute and cuddly.. well , just watch all the ours being thrown around.  The dog probably picks up on that. Her behavior is The Boy’s fault. She has abandonment issues.

So tomorrow, The Boy and I will be going to pick up our fur child and will be in a 90 minute training session.  I expect they’ll hand the leash to me, laugh, and walk away…but maybe I’m just cynical.

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“What’s the difference between moral and morale?  One simple letter changes the whole meaning,” I said with a gleam in my eye, for I was going to teach.  This was a question on a writing test and I was sure my athletes would catch the subtle change.

“It’s a big painting thing,” responded a student.

The first time a student told me that a moral was a large painting, I giggled. I explained the difference and they giggled too.  By 4:00pm, when I had had at least 7 student tell me about paintings, it stopped being so funny.  Today was a homophonic disaster.

Oh well, we’ll try again tomorrow. I’m shore we’ll get it.

On a side note, there was a HUGE thunderstorm on my way back home tonight.  I was driving along, jammin’ out to my country music (I moved to Texas so I didn’t have to be embarassed about my love of country), when WHHOOOOSSHHH :white light and nothingness:  Moments later, I realized it was just a blinding flash of lightning, but at that moment…the first moment of utter white light… my first thought was: Apocalypse.  But not just an ordinary end-of-days, but the zombie kind.  Perhaps I need to stop watching movies. Zombies?

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Toothbrush Resolutions

My commute to work takes about 50 minutes each way. Less if I’m listening to rock music, longer if there is any type of persipitation coming from the heavens.  So in my travels, I get to witness a lot of humans doing their bizarre human things. For instance, I watched a middle school aged boy brush his teeth in the car.  Of course, it took me nearly a minute to finally figure out what he was doing. He would suddenly poke his head out the backseat window, sorta bounce up, spit and then disappear back into the car.  He did this several times before he appeared with his toothbrush in his mouth. And it clicked in my head. Ah ha! He’s brushing his teeth in the car.  But then it got me to thinking of what has to occur in the life of that family to make car-brushing an acceptable practice.  I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to move around in the bathroom when I brushed my teeth for fear that I would fall and lodge the Oral-B into my throat. And I was often reminded that if that ever happened, make sure not to pull the wedged tool out of my airway, for I would surely bleed to death. Typical dinner table talk.

Being that today was the first day back to school, I expected helter skelter.  Since it’s a middle school, I wasn’t disappointed.  Two weeks in the life of a 13 year old is innumerably long, so the students were frantic to see one another.  Myself and the rest of the teachers did the typical nod-my-life-is-hell-I-should-have-listened-to-my-grandfather-and-gone-into-law- to one another.  Just another Monday.

In an effort to get my kiddos to work with goal setting, we wrote out our resolutions for 2011.   I wanted them to walk away with a goal that they could really set their sights for and reach for the stars and other teach-like mantras.  My favorite student generated resolution summed up the crux of my efforts to make this activity a serious venture:

“I resolve to NOT flip my hair so much that I break my neck so I am going to use my hand to get my hair out of my eyes.”  Golly, it’s moments like this that makes a teacher proud. :sigh:

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In the beginning…

So here it is. The first step. The small-step-for-man-giant-leap moment.  I am the proud owner of a small piece of internet. 

 Or perhaps it’s not that dramatic at all. But, it’s been my experience that if one can use hyperbole, it’s better to do so.

As I’ve spent the better part of an hour creating this blogspace (is that a fancy Internet word? I feel it should be. It probably has it’s own domain name at this point), it’s time for me to mosey on to my actual life.  And when I say I’ve spent the better part of an hour, it means that I sat in the computer chair and chewed on a pen cap while The Boy created this whole thing.  So as to ensure that I will not mess up anything tonight, I’ll call it quits.

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