Domesticated and Stupid

My roommate is an idiot. He is nearly 40 years old, has a full-time job, several kids, and a mini-van; and yet, one of his simple pleasures in life is to sneak up on people in the house to see if he can scare them. Last night, as I was dutifully writing a post for my blog, my infantile roommate sneaked up on me. Right before I was about to post my blog, my roommate leaped out from behind a door and made a horrendous balloon deflating noise with his mouth. I nearly fell out of my chair in fear, and in the process of falling, I must have hit a key on the computer keyboard that deleted my entry before it was posted. Oh, he had a big laugh over the whole incident! I on the other hand, was disgusted. What a moron, he is. Then, I realized that my entire post had been lost. Quite frankly, I was too tired to re-type everything, so I just went to bed. My apologies.

Tonight, however, I will re-create yesterday's unpublished blog. I could talk about today and forget about yesterday, but yesterday's happenings are to precious to eliminate. Plus, it goes to reinforcing my assertions that my roommate is an imbecile. Besides, today was pretty boring anyway . . .

Last night, before I got on the computer, I was snoozing on the couch in the den. My roommate was in the kitchen making lunches for the kids. The TV was on, the rest of the house was in bed, and it felt as if the household was winding down for the evening. Moments later, I heard my roommate pulling the garbage bag out of the trash can. He tied it up and slipped on his shoes to take the bag downstairs to the outside trash can in the carport. As he headed out of the door, I got off the couch to stretch a bit and to get some water from the kitchen. I stopped by the back door to look outside on my way to the kitchen.

I saw my roommate heading down the outside back stairs to the carport, when I realized the motion sensitive flood lights outside of the boys room had been activated. My roommate obviously had noticed the lights, too, because he had stopped his descent, and he was peering over the driveway. I saw it first : a big, dopey looking, chocolate Labrador had heard footsteps on the stairs and startled, sprinted out of our carport. I rolled my eyes. Why can't people keep these beasts locked up? Before I turned my head, I realized that my roommate had set the bag of garbage down on the steps.

I wish I could say that his action puzzled me, but I knew all too well what he was up to. In utter horror, I watched my roommate quietly pad down the remaining steps into the driveway. The dopey dog had escaped into the neighbor's yard, but my roommate whistled. "C'mere, puppy!" Whistle, whistle. "C'mere, doggie!" Snap, snap, pat leg. "C'mere, boy!"

The dopey dog stopped it's retreat on a dime and quickly returned to our driveway. My roommate was squatting down in a catcher's stance to receive the stray dog. It came up clumsily to my roommate, panting, drooling, and whimpering. I threw up a little bit in my mouth as I watched the scene unfold. Not my roommate though! He gently patted the beast on the head and rubbed it's chest. The dog slobbered and panted in utter joy that someone was petting it. I sat in disgust as I watched and listened to my roommate talk in that idiotic falsetto voice that people use only to talk to dogs and babies, "Hey buddy! Where are you from?" ("Mars," I sneered under my breath). "Oh! You're a girl, aren't you boy?" ("Idiot!" I thought). "Are you lost, girl? Oh, you're a sweet baby!" ("She ain't lost. She just wants our garbage. I've heard that pigs are cleaner animals . . . ")! "I wish I knew where you lived, girl! Oh, what a sweet puppy!" ("Puppy, my foot! That's an overweight old dog. It's dark outside, and I can see that from here!")

I sat and watched as my roommate bonded with this dog in our driveway. I feared the worst. What if he had so much compassion for this dog that he brought it inside? What if he planned on keeping this thing. As luck would have it, though, as quickly as the stray dog appeared, it suddenly ran away. THANKFULLY, my roommate let it go. Worst case scenario, he follows it and tries to make it come back. However instead, he went back for the bag of garbage, and tossed it in the can.

I silently moved away from the door as he made his way back inside. He never knew I witnessed him trying to woo a stray dog. Thirty minutes later, he scared the life out of me and I lost my blog.

The things I put up with around here . . . !