Friday, April 01, 2011

The Audience Isn’t Listening

Back in Orange County I took some environmental management classes at UC Irvine and I used to get together with a few gals after work for a quick dinner before class. One of the ladies had a side job as a dog psychic.

Only in Orange County, right?

Anyway, one day I mentioned off hand that I felt guilty leaving Bailey on class days because it made for an extraordinarily long day for him at home. This resulted in a twenty minute lecture about how I needed to very clearly tell Bailey the schedule for the day, explain how long I'd be gone, and give an estimation of when I'd be home. You know, so Bailey could look at the clock and see that he only had two more hours of home-alone time.

Seriously.


I never did map out the day for our poor pup but I noticed recently that I've started addressing both Benjamin and Bailey in the recommended straight-forward manner and trying to give very precise descriptions of our daily activities. I sound a bit like a tour guide, frankly. As in: "Ok Bailey and Benjamin! Today we have an exciting day planned! As you can see, we are going upstairs to change Ben's diaper! This will be followed by his mid morning feeding. In the meantime, Bailey, you're going to head into the guest bedroom so you can check to see if there are any dogs passing by on the street below and then you'll come join Ben for his midmorning snooze. We are going to have a great time!"

At least it's keeping me entertained.

On a somewhat related note:

This morning we were driving over to our mom/baby group and I promised Benjamin that I'd feed him as soon as we arrived."Just five more minutes, kiddo!" Except I spaced on the time and arrived a 1/2 hour early. Fortunately I figured this out before I rang the doorbell and decided to run a quick errand that I had originally planned for after our playdate. Which was great except that Ben now had to wait 35 minutes before eating, instead of the original five. I kid you not when I say that I got the silent treatment from the backseat for the duration of our errand-running. The baleful glare emitting from that child was more than enough to make me feel extra guilty. Clearly he's been taking pointers from Bailey.

On another random note (and in another desperate attempt to make conversation) I've been playing waiter to Benjamin's restaurant patron: "welcome! Today for a starter we have a lovely fresh crisp glass of milk served with a luxuriously creamy foam topping. For our main course, we have our chef's special dish: locally grown, free range milk, served with a side of tasty vitamins and chock full of nutrients. Served warm, it is ever-so-smooth with just a subtle hint of tangy bite. And lastly, for dessert, we have a rich milk dish, freshly brewed, and sweet but not cloying. It is a lovely endnote to this fabulous meal."

He keeps coming back for more so he must be quite taken with the menu. He's a lousy tipper though.