Monday, October 8, 2007

Office Perks


Some private investigators have offices filled with high-tech equipment. Cameras, infra-red technology, digital recorders, high-powered binoculars, combo laserjet/fax/copier/cappuccino machine/toenail manicurer units.

I get this little mess: -------------->

His name is Romeo, and he owns the woman who runs the coffeeshop on the first floor of my building. My lawyer officemate and his secretary are dog lovers, and I like doggies too, but I've never been in a pet-friendly office. I think I put up with Romeo because he's just so danged cute. He's a Yorkshire Terrier, for those of you who don't already know that, and he's barely 8 weeks old. He might weigh one pound if I soaked him in water and tied a full baby bottle to his back. (Not that I would do that. That would be mean. Do not be mean to doggies, readers.) He comes to visit us a few times a week, and he's kinda a fun distraction. Until he leaves teensy Tootsie-Roll poops on the floor. Those aren't fun, but at least they're easy to clean up.

My male OfficeMate (the OM) just loves Romeo. When the puppy wanders into the OM's office, the OM talks to Romeo, builds him up, says all kinds of praiseful things to the miniature dust mop, and if you hear, "All right, big man! Yeah, boy! That's a big man!" then it means Romeo's just hiked up his leg and piddled about a teaspoon of pee somewhere in the OM's office. Better his than mine, especially if he cleans it up.

Some people get free coffee, flower bouquets, or catered lunches in their workplaces. I get to take a break from what I'm working on and play with a puppy where a puppy's got no business playing. It doesn't add calories or attack my (few) allergies, and it makes me smile.

I like my perk much, much better.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Saturday Morning, 10:00 am

Today, I started this blog. I don't know why, I just did it. I think it's all Ree's fault. Not that that's a bad thing.

So, to summarize today, my husband's out of town, and I'm at home with my sons, Big Beavis (9 and a half) and Little Beavis (6); their friends, who are also brothers, Crusher (9 without the half) and Big J (6); six indoor cats, who all joined the Cat Protection Program once the boys opened the front door and entered the house; and one Rottweiler, who's thrilled to be surrounded by so many snacks-- er, boys.

When I invited Crusher and Big J to spend the night last night, their father, a good friend of mine, asked, astonished, "Are you in-SANE?" Yeah, maybe, but insanity means I'm not afraid to handle a houseful of elementary-aged boys for a night. I figure if the bozos give trouble, I'll coat them with peanut butter and let the dog at 'em.

The boys have been great. They all came home after Big Beavis and Crusher's canceled-due-to-rain baseball practice last night, played a baseball video game, watched television, and conked out. This morning, they ate donuts and begged to play pool. So, armed with donuts and pool cues, four boys are currently terrorizing nothing but a tabletop of solids and stripes. And I'm able to sit on a laptop and start a blog for people I've never met to read.

You just don't get moments like these very often, folks, so... what the heck.