Commitment

I have one "Strawberry Electric" colored thumb nail. All of my other finger nails are without polish. I really dislike moments like this. Last night I was painting my toenails, and decided to start on my finger nails. I find painting my nails exceedingly decadent. I used to paint them all the time in college - I have an arsenal of nail polishes that is more varied than a rainbow. I'd just finished applying the first coat of SCREAMING BRIGHT STRAWBERRY ELECTRIC... when my husband called out those magical words, "Dinner's Ready!" And Who am I to postpone the consumption of fish tacos?

Of course, what happens when I'm interrupted in the middle of an activity? Do I make strict plans to return? Sometimes.

You'd think having one brilliantly pink nail would encourage me to finish the job, but I think you underestimate my power of denial and laziness. Also, there were three Law and Orders on in a row last night.

So here I am. Today. I'm wearing a pretty dress and heels and I look so well put together.

Except my thumbnail is bright pink.

I've tried coming up with an explanation for that annoying person that decides to ask why?, but all I've come up with is "I babysat an aspiring beautician last night". "I couldn't motivate myself to pick up my arms long enough to finish the job last night" just doesn't sound sane enough.

I did have a moment of absolute pure joy last night. My husband and I were flirting and tickling each other and laughing, and Greg started to get the upper hand. So I pulled a brilliant move out of my hat and invited Dexter - who'd been standing beside the couch, watching intently and obviously worried about us - up onto the couch.

I have accepted that when we are gone from the house, he gets up onto the couch. There is nothing I can do about it. When we are home, however, he stays off the furniture unless invited. Greg was skeptical for a while with thoughts along the lines of, You mean this dog is going to know the difference between being on the couch illegally and being on the couch legally because he was invited? Are you nuts?

But I knew it would work. For a long time, we'd pat the couch beside us and he'd heave his upper body onto the cushion and it would take a while for him to migrate all the way onto the couch and then eventually across our laps - as though the couch was simply too high for him to jump onto. What a liar face. I've seen him jump over the pet gates, AND he watches me leave in the morning from on top of the couch, through the window.

However, something clicked last night and I think he now enthusiastically understands that when we pat our laps or the couch cushion, he is permitted up.

I know this because in the midst of giggling and poking each other - I patted Greg's lap, and Dexter leapt 5 feet into the air, cleared our legs, the coffee table, and landed cleanly - on his back, belly clearly presented for scritches - splayed across our combined laps.

If there was a Floor to Couch Jumping competition, it would have been 9's across the board with room for improvement if next time he wanted to throw in a somersault or some high kicks.

Each day it becomes clearer and clearer to me.

We have a dog.