Brock got a dog (Black Dog) to take on manly outings for things like swimming and fetch. She is afraid of water and the only thing she would ever consider fetching is a hamburger flying through the air. She likes laying on your lap and thinks she is a teacup poodle. I renamed her (said like someone announcing royalty) Princess Lulu Belle Violet Fifi. Then I bought her a pink collar embellished with tiny crowns and the word Princess on it. She loves both her name and her collar. She sleeps curled up in a tiny ball on the catbed. My dog (Red Dog) is athletic, a swimmer and loves to be outside. She sleeps on the doorstep (with her ball).
My husband is a competent rider and has owned a few horses in his life. Their names include Tigger and Prince Charming. Yes, cartoon characters. They have all been special and *somewhat* fragile minded. They were/are uncertain in the lead and certainly would never go out ALONE. John Wayne's horses rode in front and alone, I assure you. My horses have renegade names like Jag and Gus. Those two in particular were/are fearless steeds who not only like to ride in the lead, but actually insist upon it (unless you encounter a llama). I am pretty sure you could shoot a gun from their back. Gus and I even went swimming a couple of years ago. (see photo below) I watched Brock try to swim his horse once. The horse tried to roll onto Brock when they were in the water. I also watched as the same horse attempted to walk off a cliff (because that is clearly a better option than turning), spooked at every stick he encountered (they bite, you know) and blew up at a scary rock (which resulted in Brock almost crashing into a tree with his face). Bold, fearless and trustworthy. *Cough cough*
|Gus and I. He's awesome and I am so white that |
my body is actually reflecting the sun.
Anyway, you get the picture. My manly, skilled, craftsman of a husband gets pelted with chick flicks, cupcakes, pink bubble gum, Cosmopolitans, horses named by 8 year old girls and 56 pound Labradors having an identity crisis. Clearly he doesn't like change, because this seems to be a pattern in his life.
Brock and I got new phones over the weekend. I am now equipped to text. I know, welcome to civilization. My phone also can access the Internet, link with my email, shoot pictures and videos and do all kinds of amazing things that I have no clue how to make it do. I'm sure I'll figure it out within the next two years. Definitely I will be really comfortable with it by the time I need to replace it.
My husband, who doesn't like change, selected the flip phone that was most similar to the one that he owned previously (the one on which he smashed the charger outlet), and the one he owned prior to that (the one he dropped into our septic tank). Pattern...repetition...for the love of Pete don't try anything new! This might be why he looks exactly the same as he did when he graduated from high school. This is why he had a mullet and a mustache when I met him... in 2003.
He looked like the Brawny Man. The original one... that they replaced with the upgraded current one.
|The original Brawny Man.|
I think Brock may have posed for this.
|The original Brock on our first date, where we went snowshoeing|
and he repeatedly assured me that "he wasn't tired".
He later told me that he thought he was going to die.
|The new Brawny Man.|
I just wanted to look at him.
Wow, I can get off task so easily...
I said, "I do."
He said, "It's called Bubbles."
Then he started giggling like a school girl.
So did I.
And the cycle starts again.
Hey, at least he has his John Wayne Mug... you know the one that I violated with my menstrual cramp tea.