Today is Wife Appreciation Day, and I would like to state for the record that I truly love and appreciate my wonderful wife.
I will also add that she's given me gray hair before my time.
The other day, Pamela called the Fire Station. One of my firefighters answered the phone. She said, "Do not repeat
my question out loud, especially if Jay is around. Just answer 'yes' or
'no.' Can you tell me how to turn on a table saw?"
Verse of the day: (Proverbs 4:15a) "Don’t even think about it..."
It's actually a chop saw. And God bless the man who invented the chop saw safety latch.
Note from Pamela: I would like to state for the record how appalled I am that our local firefighters are flatly unwilling to answer a simple question. Appalled, I tell you.
For more contributions from Jay about Pamela, check out Panic-Inducing Pamela. For stories about Jay, check out Finders Seekers, Delectable Disagreement, Land(fill) of the Free, Preplanned Packing, and She Said, He Heard.
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Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
But She Likes It!
Disclaimer: Posted with Zoe and Jay's approval.
Speaking of fathers and daughters, when we first welcomed Zoe, a Bichon Frise mix, into our home, she was two years old and weighed nine pounds.
She hadn't lived with us long before her girth slowly increased. Caleb, our Korean Jindo, regulates his own weight (he'll stop eating if he gains a few pounds), so this was new to me.
I carefully monitored Zoe's food intake and made sure we exercised her regularly with long, brisk walks. (And by "we" I mean "Jay," of course. Hey, walking is good for him!)
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
She gradually grew chubbier until she eventually weighed almost twenty pounds!
I fed the dogs when Jay was at the fire station, but on the nights he was home, he insisted on serving their dinner so he "could bond with them." One night, I realized that he had been giving Zoe half as much food as he gave Caleb.
Me: Jay, she shouldn't get that much food!
He (shrugging): I couldn't remember the exact amount to give her.
Me (logically): Honey, Caleb is forty pounds. If she eats half of his portion size, then she'll be twenty pounds. She should be ten pounds, so you have to feed her less.
He (illogically): But she likes it.
Me: Jay! We have to make decisions based on her health. We're the parents.
I marked a measuring cup and put it in the dog food bag. Jay claimed he was adhering to the guideline.
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
Matthew 10:26 says that "there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known," so it was only a matter of time before I noticed that Zoe always followed Jay with unusual enthusiasm when he went in the kitchen "to get a drink" before bed. The next time they went, I hazarded a guess.
Me (calling out, suspiciously): Jay, what is Zoe eating?
He (after a long pause): You can hear that?
Me (suspicions confirmed!): What did you give her?
He (after a longer pause): Just some butter.
Me: Butter! Jay, you can't feed her butter. No wonder she's so chubby.
He: But she really wanted some. She even sat up.
Me: I don't care if she puts on Highland Tartan and dances a jig; don't give her butter.
He: But she likes it.
Me: No more butter!
I thought that would solve the problem, and, when questioned, he assured me that he'd stopped feeding her butter.
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
A few months later, I saw what looked like white paint on Zoe's ear and chin.
Me (puzzled): Jay, are you touching up the paint somewhere in the house?
He: No. Why?
Me: It looks like Zoe has white paint on her face.
He (after a long, long pause): It's probably sour cream.
Me: Did you say sour cream?
He (lamely): I thought it might be getting old, so I mixed a little with her food.
Me (with my left eyebrow raised): Yeah. And how much of this "old" sour cream did you give her?
He (vaguely): Not much. Whatever was left.
Me (with both eyebrows raised): Yeah. And exactly how much was that?
He: Only like a third of the container.
Me: A third of the container? Did you say a third of the container?
He (reluctantly): Well, it probably wasn't the best thing to give her.
Me (looking at the dietary info): Not the best thing? Since this little dog just consumed about 300 calories and 25 fat grams, I would wholeheartedly agree. And all this time you had 'no idea' why she was so overweight?
He (stubbornly): But she likes it.
This, my friends, is why God did not give Jay daughters.
Verse of the day: (Proverbs 22:9) “A generous man will be blessed, for he shares his food with those in need."
For those ready to call Pet Protective Services: Thanks to my daily monitoring of Papa Pushover, Zoe might still be a bit chubby, but at least she no longer looks like a miniature fuzzy hippo.
Speaking of fathers and daughters, when we first welcomed Zoe, a Bichon Frise mix, into our home, she was two years old and weighed nine pounds.
She hadn't lived with us long before her girth slowly increased. Caleb, our Korean Jindo, regulates his own weight (he'll stop eating if he gains a few pounds), so this was new to me.
I carefully monitored Zoe's food intake and made sure we exercised her regularly with long, brisk walks. (And by "we" I mean "Jay," of course. Hey, walking is good for him!)
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
She gradually grew chubbier until she eventually weighed almost twenty pounds!
To: Resembles a beached manatee |
From: Wouldn't hurt to gain a couple pounds |
Actually, a baby manatee may have been smaller than Zoe (photo credit: http://ambergriscaye.com/photogallery/121005.html) |
Me: Jay, she shouldn't get that much food!
He (shrugging): I couldn't remember the exact amount to give her.
Me (logically): Honey, Caleb is forty pounds. If she eats half of his portion size, then she'll be twenty pounds. She should be ten pounds, so you have to feed her less.
He (illogically): But she likes it.
Me: Jay! We have to make decisions based on her health. We're the parents.
I marked a measuring cup and put it in the dog food bag. Jay claimed he was adhering to the guideline.
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
Matthew 10:26 says that "there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known," so it was only a matter of time before I noticed that Zoe always followed Jay with unusual enthusiasm when he went in the kitchen "to get a drink" before bed. The next time they went, I hazarded a guess.
Me (calling out, suspiciously): Jay, what is Zoe eating?
He (after a long pause): You can hear that?
Me (suspicions confirmed!): What did you give her?
He (after a longer pause): Just some butter.
Me: Butter! Jay, you can't feed her butter. No wonder she's so chubby.
He: But she really wanted some. She even sat up.
Me: I don't care if she puts on Highland Tartan and dances a jig; don't give her butter.
He: But she likes it.
Me: No more butter!
I thought that would solve the problem, and, when questioned, he assured me that he'd stopped feeding her butter.
Yet, she still did not lose weight...
A few months later, I saw what looked like white paint on Zoe's ear and chin.
Me (puzzled): Jay, are you touching up the paint somewhere in the house?
He: No. Why?
Me: It looks like Zoe has white paint on her face.
He (after a long, long pause): It's probably sour cream.
Me: Did you say sour cream?
He (lamely): I thought it might be getting old, so I mixed a little with her food.
Me (with my left eyebrow raised): Yeah. And how much of this "old" sour cream did you give her?
He (vaguely): Not much. Whatever was left.
Me (with both eyebrows raised): Yeah. And exactly how much was that?
He: Only like a third of the container.
Me: A third of the container? Did you say a third of the container?
He (reluctantly): Well, it probably wasn't the best thing to give her.
Me (looking at the dietary info): Not the best thing? Since this little dog just consumed about 300 calories and 25 fat grams, I would wholeheartedly agree. And all this time you had 'no idea' why she was so overweight?
He (stubbornly): But she likes it.
This, my friends, is why God did not give Jay daughters.
A sour cream-smeared Zoe winking (literally) at her Partner-in-Crime |
For those ready to call Pet Protective Services: Thanks to my daily monitoring of Papa Pushover, Zoe might still be a bit chubby, but at least she no longer looks like a miniature fuzzy hippo.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
She Said, He Heard
(Disclaimer: Posted with Jay's approval. He knows he's not the only one.)
I've heard many women complain that the men in their lives don't listen. But, ladies, it's not personal; it's biological. A scientific study proved that men only hear one-third of what is actually said. So, instead of balking against this apparent reality, just accept it.
I must admit that I'm fascinated by how this works. How do men choose which words to hear and which words to discard? Do they only hear the long words? Do they only hear nouns? Or verbs? How can they hear only a third of a one-word sentence?
After 11 years of studying Jay, my current conclusion is that there is no formula; male hearing is entirely random.
Which I find rather funny.
To prove the point, following are some conversations that took place between Jay and me. (Which happened, by the way, when all the televisions, radios, phones, and computers were off, so, there were no distractions.)
One fine morning...
Me: Do you want something for breakfast?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: You didn't want breakfast?
He: I didn't have any.
Me: Yeah, I know; we both just got out of bed. I asked if you want some.
He: Some what?
Me: Breakfast.
He: No, I haven't had breakfast.
One afternoon...
He: I need a snack. I think I'll get a bagel. Do you want one?
Me: Yeah, a bagel sounds good. I'd like an untoasted, plain bagel with nothing on it. Thanks, sweetie!
He: Got it.
Later, he handed me a toasted, blueberry bagel smothered in cream cheese.
Me (genuinely intrigued): Honey, 'a plain bagel' doesn't sound remotely like 'a blueberry bagel.' How does that get switched in your head? Especially since I emphasized the word 'plain.'
He (shrugging): I guess I heard 'bagel' and stopped paying attention.
At least he admits it.
Me: Yeah, and I could understand if I'd asked for cream cheese and you confused it with something like 'green peas,' because they at least sound similar, but I said I wanted nothing on my bagel.
He: Sorry, I must have only been half-listening. I'll eat the blueberry bagel and get your plain bagel with green cheese. (Pause) What is green cheese? Like sour cream?
At this point, some of you might be thinking, Perhaps the poor man has hearing loss. He does not; I've had him checked. And he has no problem detecting when I climb on a kitchen counter or strike a match. Even if he's outside, he miraculously hears and comes in to bust me. The holes in his hearing only appear during conversation.
I've even tried speaking in two word sentences to see if that helps.
One day, he came home from the grocery store...
Me: Want soup?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: Didn't what?
He: Buy soap. I don't even remember you asking me to buy soap.
Me: I didn't.
He: Didn't what?
Me: Didn't ask you to buy soap.
He: Well, then why would you expect me to get any?
Me: We don't need soap. I said soup. I made homemade soup while you were gone. Do you want some chicken soup for lunch?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: Didn't what?
He: Buy chicken soup. I don't even remember you asking me to buy soup.
When he asks why I burst out laughing throughout the day, I tell him it must be a laugh track because we're clearly on a sit-com.
Verse of the day: (Matthew 11:15) "If any man has ears to hear, let him hear." I'm not preventing him. Honest!
To understand why Jay can hear a match strike from the other side of the property, click here to read Panic-inducing Pamela.
I've heard many women complain that the men in their lives don't listen. But, ladies, it's not personal; it's biological. A scientific study proved that men only hear one-third of what is actually said. So, instead of balking against this apparent reality, just accept it.
I must admit that I'm fascinated by how this works. How do men choose which words to hear and which words to discard? Do they only hear the long words? Do they only hear nouns? Or verbs? How can they hear only a third of a one-word sentence?
After 11 years of studying Jay, my current conclusion is that there is no formula; male hearing is entirely random.
Which I find rather funny.
To prove the point, following are some conversations that took place between Jay and me. (Which happened, by the way, when all the televisions, radios, phones, and computers were off, so, there were no distractions.)
One fine morning...
Me: Do you want something for breakfast?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: You didn't want breakfast?
He: I didn't have any.
Me: Yeah, I know; we both just got out of bed. I asked if you want some.
He: Some what?
Me: Breakfast.
He: No, I haven't had breakfast.
One afternoon...
He: I need a snack. I think I'll get a bagel. Do you want one?
Me: Yeah, a bagel sounds good. I'd like an untoasted, plain bagel with nothing on it. Thanks, sweetie!
He: Got it.
Later, he handed me a toasted, blueberry bagel smothered in cream cheese.
Me (genuinely intrigued): Honey, 'a plain bagel' doesn't sound remotely like 'a blueberry bagel.' How does that get switched in your head? Especially since I emphasized the word 'plain.'
He (shrugging): I guess I heard 'bagel' and stopped paying attention.
At least he admits it.
Me: Yeah, and I could understand if I'd asked for cream cheese and you confused it with something like 'green peas,' because they at least sound similar, but I said I wanted nothing on my bagel.
He: Sorry, I must have only been half-listening. I'll eat the blueberry bagel and get your plain bagel with green cheese. (Pause) What is green cheese? Like sour cream?
At this point, some of you might be thinking, Perhaps the poor man has hearing loss. He does not; I've had him checked. And he has no problem detecting when I climb on a kitchen counter or strike a match. Even if he's outside, he miraculously hears and comes in to bust me. The holes in his hearing only appear during conversation.
I've even tried speaking in two word sentences to see if that helps.
One day, he came home from the grocery store...
Me: Want soup?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: Didn't what?
He: Buy soap. I don't even remember you asking me to buy soap.
Me: I didn't.
He: Didn't what?
Me: Didn't ask you to buy soap.
He: Well, then why would you expect me to get any?
Me: We don't need soap. I said soup. I made homemade soup while you were gone. Do you want some chicken soup for lunch?
He: No, I didn't.
Me: Didn't what?
He: Buy chicken soup. I don't even remember you asking me to buy soup.
When he asks why I burst out laughing throughout the day, I tell him it must be a laugh track because we're clearly on a sit-com.
Verse of the day: (Matthew 11:15) "If any man has ears to hear, let him hear." I'm not preventing him. Honest!
To understand why Jay can hear a match strike from the other side of the property, click here to read Panic-inducing Pamela.
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