When I do it, I get in trouble.
When Caicos does it, my wife just laughs. It’s not fair, is what it’s not.
Caicos is our dog my wife and 22-year-old daughter Emma conned me into adopting five years ago.
We were on vacation in the Turks and Caicos Islands when my wife and Emma thought it would be fun to visit an animal rescue group that lets people take their rescued dogs for walks to help socialize them
The dogs, I mean, not the people. Although that’s not such a bad idea.
I was against the plan as I correctly-as it turned out-feared my wife and Emma would con me into adopting whichever dog they chose to walk.
Not only did they con me into adopting Caicos my wife and Emma also promised they would take care of her.
It was as if I had “Stupid” written all over my face.
When we brought Caicos home, she took one look at the spotless, large, leather couch in our family room and said to herself “I like this place.”
Assuming dogs talk to themselves.
Five years later that couch is still large and is still leather. What it’s not is spotless. Our large, leather couch now has more scratches on it than a 50-year-old Beatles album.
We bought the couch nine years ago at a Nebraska Furniture Mart in Kansas City.
It’s possible we bought the couch at a Kansas City Furniture Mart in Nebraska.
But that’s not my point. My point is Caicos has taken over our couch and now my wife and Emma think it’s time for us to get a new couch.
I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.
“What if Caicos destroys the new couch like she did with the one we have now?” I ask.
“She won’t. We won’t let her,” my wife and Emma said.
I’m guessing the “Stupid” is on my forehead.
I asked my wife and Emma if they also wanted to replace the leather club chair and footstool in our family room Caicos has also destroyed and they said they did not.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because Caicos loves that footstool,” they said.
“I see,” I said.
Like most of the furniture in our house the large, leather couch is adorned with numerous pillows. My wife loves pillows. She puts pillows on everything. This may or may not be true but my wife put pillows on our ceiling fans.
My wife likes pillows, is what I’m saying.
Because I don’t like pillows, whenever I try to sit down in our house, I have to take the pillows on whatever I’m trying to sit on and toss them on the floor.
This makes my wife mad. The reason I know this makes my wife mad is because she says, “Mike, when you toss pillows on the floor it makes me mad.” And then I get in trouble.
That’s right. I’m a grown man who still gets in trouble in his own house.
When Caicos wants to get on our large, leather couch and there are pillows in her way the first thing she does is sprawl on top of them. But because Caicos also doesn’t like pillows, she slowly knocks them onto the floor. If I happen to be sitting on the couch at the time and my wife walks into the room and sees the pillows on the floor, she will get mad at me.
For something I didn’t do. For something a dog she and Emma conned me into adopting did.
I don’t think that’s right.
If my wife happens to be on the couch when Caicos starts knocking pillows off the couch she will laugh.
“It’s that cute?” my wife will say.
“How come when Caicos knocks off the pillows it’s cute and when I do it you get mad at me?” I will ask my wife.
“It just is,” my will wife say.
“Well as long as you have a logical reason,” I will say.
I’m typing this on the counter in our kitchen. It’s about 2:30 in the afternoon. Caicos is behind me on the large, leather couch and has already knocked some pillows onto the floor.
Seriously, the “Stupid” on my face must have been written with a Sharpie.