 "Really?" It
was so unlike my husband to come up with an idea that
was so perfect. I'd always thought a white picket fence lined with
some small shrubs was picturesque. Some colorful flowers peeking
through the shrubs would make it absolutely gorgeous. It's what you
might imagine when you first dreamed of buying your first home. So
pretty and cozy. Maybe we could add a little bench under one of the
shade trees and a small gazing pool with goldfish, I thought.
"Yeah," my husband said, "It'll keep the neighbor's dogs from doing
their business in our yard."
"Oh," I mumbled, as the idyllic scene in my head shattered into a
million pieces and was replaced by dogs defecating on my begonias.
Still, if he could be convinced to put up that fence, I could
complete the scenario with the flowers and shrubs. Did I really care
what his motivation was? No, as long as I get my picket fence.
"You're right," I said. "Those darn dogs think they can drop a
load anywhere they want. A picket fence is the perfect solution."
"We can tack a sign to it that says 'Dear Dogs, We Don't Poop In
Your Yard, Please Don't Poop In Ours.'"
I looked at him in horror. "You can't put a sign like that on our
new picket fence!"
"Why not?"
"Because dogs aren't the only ones who can read, you know!"
Obviously, my sanity had deserted me. It tends to stick around
only for short visits.
My husband gave me the "duh" look but, mercifully, said nothing.
I decided not to go on about the sign. Not only would it impede
the progress of a new picket fence, but I might say something stupid
again. I only needed my husband's help constructing the fence, after
all. If he insisted on tacking up an obnoxious sign in the middle of
my little piece of heaven, the sign could always meet with an
unfortunate accident, possibly at the hands (paws) of our neighbor's
dogs. I haven't worked out the details yet, but I'll cross that
bridge when I come to it.
[to top of second column] |
 As always, my husband has the wonderful ideas and I am left with
the task of making it happen. Where can we buy a picket fence?
Should we simply buy the wood and make the pieces? How much will
each option cost? And which piggy bank will we rob to pay for it?
Will it be the vacation piggy bank, the piggy bank we use when
our hot water heater blows up, or will we take it out of our food
and clothing budget?
Not the vacation stash, definitely not the vacation. The hot
water heater hasn't been replaced in eight years and we haven't had
a transmission problem in four years. The law of averages says we're
due for a catastrophe.
We're on a diet and it's irresponsible to buy new clothes just
before a catastrophe, so the food and clothing budget will take the
picket fence hit.
I laid out the plan for my master builder. He was pleased that I
had found a way to pay for the picket fence, but cheating on his
diet would now be much more difficult.
The plan was accepted. However, the project wheels turn very
slowly at my house. Some days they may not turn at all. My only
concern is that the neighbor's dogs will expire of old age before I
get my picket fence.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info.
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