The French

I love dreaming. If only because it is the once place I can act out my social deviance without recourse. Last night was a perfect example.

My family was at a restaurant in France. We were a slightly large group (about 7) so we were spread out over two tables. It was probably around 3 in the afternoon, we were the only customers there.


Enter The Waitress. Our waitress was the epitome of a disgruntled employee. Perhaps it was because it was nearly time for her to get off work when our party showed up, perhaps it was because the rest of the waitstaff was either playing cards in the back or sleeping in a sink full of warm water, (And no, this is not just conjecture. I saw it later on in the dream.) whatever the case she was annoyed with our presence and made no effort to hide it.

As we sat and waded through the extensive menu she slipped to the back where she stayed for an extended period of time returning for brief seconds to get the orders of those who "knew what they wanted" and ignoring those who had questions. "Excuse me, what's in the...." my Mom began. And she left. "Oh my," said Maum. I found something beginning to boil within me. This woman was rude. To my Maum. Not o.k.

When she came breezing back in I looked around at my family waiting calmly and expectantly for service and being completely ignored. You shouldn't say it Summer, conscience said, albeit quietly. I ignored her.

"You know," I said, "You probably would have gotten a really nice tip if you weren't such a Bitch." A fork dropped and I looked up to see Morm, Porp, and Michael staring at me with mouths agape and slightly amused expressions on their faces. Oops, I thought. Filter failure.  The Waitress paled and raced to the kitchen. A second thought occurred to me. I probably should have waited to say that until we had our food. 


What had I done? I don't say things like that to waitresses! I felt strangely empowered. I had chewed out a waitress. What else could I do‽ 


Now I don't know exactly what possessed me to do what I did next, maybe it was because The Waitress didn't answer any of our questions about the menu, maybe it was because I was nervous she was going to spit in my food, maybe I was just power tripping, but whatever the reason I decided to go into the kitchen and talk to the chef. Without asking for permission. 


So there I went, past the Maitre d', past the waitstaff, past random busboys curled up snoozing in the dishwashing sinks full of warm water, and up to the chef. He was lovely. Evidently we were suddenly in Russia, or it was really cold in the kitchen because Mr. Chef/Baker man was wearing a long furry coat.
I asked him if he would mind me hanging around for awhile because I was nervous about The Waitress. He told me to have a seat and look through his cook books. Long story short I learned a lot about cooking, found out that he made his own pasta, and forgot all about my mean waitress.

The end.

Jasper, Our Little Human.

It's annoying when you're tired and can't sleep.

I think I'm dehydrated. My mouth is dry and my feet are thirsty.

I probably shouldn't be blogging in this state. You never know what could slip past my filter and run down my fingers and onto the page. Whatever. Good or bad here we go.

So I have been thinking for awhile how having a dog is very much like having a child (This coming from a childless individual who has been slightly phobic of children her entire life). Jasper is the most needy canine I have ever encountered. Perhaps he would be slightly more balanced if he wasn't an "only child" but I don't think so. This dog exhibits very human-like characteristics. Perhaps it's because Michael and I talk to him like he's a small furry person, perhaps it's because he's not actually a dog at all but an alien in dog's clothing, but whatever the case he's smart to a fault. And he's crafty.

Reasons Jasper is like a human:

#1. He sits.
Yes, yes. I know. All dogs sit. But not all dogs sit ON you. Jasper likes to park himself right on your lap, leg, back, whatever. He's like the toddlers I play with twice a month at MOPs. You sit down on the floor to see what they're up to and before you know it, you've got one on each knee and another in line. It's incredibly endearing in children. In Jasper? Once you remember that he isn't a child you catch yourself wondering, "Where on earth did he learn this?"

#2. He's an expert at positioning.
You're watching something on your computer. Jasper will come and stand right in front of the screen. Snuggling with The Captain on the floor in front of the couch? Right between you. He knows exactly where he needs to be to get attention.

#3. The life of the party.
Having a little soiree? Guess who is going to be vying for everyones attention all night? Exiling him to the lanai is not an option because he can still see you and we don't have enough cheese to go with that much whine. With a room full of people he will drive you mad with the amount of energy he can muster, but the minute people leave he's out cold.  An amazing phenomenon.

#4. Guilt trips.
His face is outrageously expressive. He smiles. He frowns. He gives you the worst, "You're leaving me?" eyes ever. I'm going to be such a push over someday. Not saying that I'm going to leave my child at home. Alone. On the Lanai. Unattended...

#5. No telemarking.
It's been my experience, having grown up with dogs, that you can usually tell what's going on in a pup's head. They see a ball. Their tail starts to wag. They smile and get jumpy/whiny. "Throw the BALL!" The ball is thrown. Dog is elated. Roll credits.

This is not exactly Jasper's way of processing situations.  1. You hold out a chew toy and tell him to sit. 2. He sits, looking completely calm and collected. 3. You stare into his eyes and as you wonder how long he's going to stay like that he raises his eyebrows and bites your face off.

In the same vein, you never can tell what goes on in the mind of a child. One minute they're gurgly and happy, the next minute you have throw up all over you favorite purple shirt.

True story.

A lesson from Jasper

I'm glad God isn't like me. Reason?

I took Jasper out for a romp and a pee this evening. It was a fairly standard outing. I let him off leash, he went snooping around the yard and then promptly disappeared.

When he emerged from the foliage a few minutes later he looked particularly impish so I went over to inspect his state of shenaniganry.

What I found was Jasper Lee in the banana bushes with the avocado.

"Oh great," I thought. "This will be fun."

"Jasper. Drop it."

Jasper, with mouth FULL of avocado, "Drop what?"

"Seriously? Drop it."

"What‽"


"Ok. You want to play it that way, fine. Yard time is over. And you are sooo in time out when we get back."

Jasper maintains his "I-don't-have-anything-in-my-mouth-especially-not-a-7-inch-avocado" face as we head back to the apartment.

I look at him and shake my head. I'm not going to let him in the house with this thing in his mouth. He's just going to drop it and its slimy innards on our once-white carpet. I sigh and try again.

"Jasper, off." Nothing. "Jasper, drop it." Nothing. "JASPER." I reach my hand down near his mouth.


"Growl." 


"Oh, no you didn't," I say with loathing. He hasn't exactly caught me on one of my particularly patient days. In a split second Jasper takes two pirana bites, trying to get as much of the slimy mess down his gullet as possible. I snap.

"FINE! EAT IT! I hope it causes you extreme pain!!!"

In the process of swallowing, half of the avocado dropped out of his mouth. I darted in and plucked it from beneath him, neatly depositing it in the trash can nearby. "Don't you DARE throw that up on my carpet."

I'm so glad God isn't like me. I'm glad he is a God with heaps of patience who doesn't wish us physical harm when we are belligerent.