Doolittle’s got nothing on me
I talk to my dogs. Let’s go out. Time for lunch. Want a treat? Get off the sofa. Ok, more likely: Make room for me.
I also, in the course of my day, tell the pups what I’m doing. I’m going to take a shower. Heading to the grocery store, be back soon. General Hospital is starting, let’s watch.
None of this is a problem for me. The dogs keep me company and I’m pretty sure they understand a good deal of what I say. I know they agree with me that Sam and Jason should definitely get back together but that Nicolas and Liz, well, that’s not a good match.
That being said, as if two (and until a week ago, three) dogs isn’t enough, I also tend to talk to the appliances.
When the phone rings I often yell, “I’m not answering you!” or “Call the cell phone!”
When the washer is on the fritz and buzzes throughout the cycle I say, “Just wash the damn clothes.”
When the garbage disposal broke sometime last week or the week before I said, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon I don’t have time or money to fix you, cooperate.” It’s still broken.
I also ask questions.
When the spring broke on the garage door and it sounded like a gunshot in the house, I asked, “Why? Why do you have to break today when I need to leave the house in 20 minutes?”
When I forget to take out the trash because I think it’s Tuesday, not Thursday, I look at the pile in the garage and say, “Why didn’t you remind me to take you out?”
There are also quite a few damn corners and chair legs that get berated when I bump into them on occasion, and toilets that might flush a little slowly sometimes for which a good crossing of the fingers, holding hands together in potty prayer and saying a chant of pleaseflushpleaseflushpleaseflush seems to work. Sometimes.
I also express gratitude to found keys, glasses, money and socks — sometimes resulting in kissing the object (except for the socks).
I’ve decided it is not an issue worth therapy though, unless they start talking back.
By Danielle Cross on Aug 21, 2009
You are not alone. I too, have said the potty prayer. And in the morning, I tell my coffee maker how much I LOOVVEE her:)
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SuburbanKvetch replied:
August 21st, 2009 at 10:16 am
@Danielle Cross,
Oh no! I forgot about my love of Mr. Coffee. Shh! Don’t tell.
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By Sarah on Aug 21, 2009
I’m sitting in my office doing 10 things at once. I read this
and
stopped everthing and smiled and laughed. I just loved it!
Thanks for a good uplifting read during my day. I’m still smiling!
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By Melanie on Aug 21, 2009
ROFL. I’m the same way. I yell at the internet more than anything else, usually something along the lines of “WHHHHHHHHY are you going so SLOOOOOOOOW?”
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By Kath Calarco on Aug 21, 2009
Amy, I think what you have is called, “Narrating your way through the day,” lol. It’s sort of like that guy who whispers incessantly during the Masters and PGA, as if the rest of us can’t see what the golfer is doing. (Not that I watch golf…)
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By feefifoto on Aug 21, 2009
My mother talks to her mail, at least when I’m around. I don’t know if she does it when she has not other companion than bills, invitations and newspapers, or if she just does it when people are there, for attention.
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By linda oltman on Aug 21, 2009
loved this..I also..talk to everything..but you knew that..xxoo
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By Leslie on Aug 22, 2009
My husband likes to talk to things. Make that swear at things…printers he deems too inefficient, his avitar on Wii, slow downloads, golf balls that don’t go where he wanted. I don’t much like it but was certainly relieved when I realized he wasn’t talking to me when he was yelling “you bitch!” but rather a jar that wouldn’t open.
What’s the potty prayer? I can think of a few but not sure if it’s THE potty prayer.
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