Bad Max.

No, you may not get up in the middle of the night because you are thirsty.  Quit whining.

I said, Quit WHINING.

Fine.  It’s three in the morning, but I’ll tromp out of bed and let you have a drink of water, just because you’re thirsty.  You know, there are starving dogs in Mexico who could wait until morning.  Wild village dogs on the African plain probably manage longer than five hours without access to fresh water.   Do you have any idea how easy you have it?  You wouldn’t last three minutes in the wild.

Are you done yet?  Fine.  Get back in bed.  Good dog.  Good night.

DOG, QUIT WHINING.  Max!  Can you hear me?  QUIT IT!   NO WHINING!  BAD MAX!  It’s four in the morning – I was just up!

Seriously, no whining!

FINE.  You have to pee.  I told you this is what would happen if you drank all that water.  Couldn’t you have waited three more hours to drink?  Sheesh.  Hurry up and pee.

 No, I do not want to play.  Go to bed.  Good dog.

Good morning, Max.  Yes, I’m happy to see you , too.  You’re a good dog.  Now get out of the kitchen while I cook.  No begging.

Seriously, dog, no begging!  Get!  Good boy.

What did I just say?  I said no begging!  GO! Good boy.

What the…..GET OFF THE COUNTER, MAX!  DON’T YOU DARE TAKE THAT PANCAKE— BAD!  BAD MAX!  NO!  DROP IT!

Nononono…. please don’t pee…. I didn’t mean to yell…..crap.  Too late.  Sigh.  I’ll go get something to clean it up.

SQUIDGELET, DON’T TOUCH THAT, IT’S DOG PEE….. Crap.  Too late.  SIGH. 

DragonMonkey, leave that poor dog alone.  He doesn’t want to play chase right now.  Poor Max.  You’re a good boy.  Any other dog would have eaten the DragonMonkey by now.  Good boy, Max.

Here, let’s go on a walk so we can burn off some energy. 

Seriously, dog, sometimes you’re more trouble than you’re worth.  The rules really aren’t that hard to follow.  Don’t pee in the house.  Quit breaking into the babies’ room and eating their poopy diapers.  Don’t steal food off the counters.  Is it really that confusing?  I’ve never had a sweeter, more disobedient dog.  I can’t tell if you are being passive aggressive and deliberately ignoring the rules or if you’re really incapable of remembering them. Bad Max.  Bad.

Okay, yes, you’re really good with the kids.  But don’t think you’re off the hook, mister.  You’ve been a very bad dog today.  You don’t deserve to go on this walk.  I’m very upset with yo—

No, DragonMonkey, I’m not mad at Max.  Yes, I know you love him.  He’s a good dog.  But seriously, isn’t it nice to imagine a nice, peaceful house where you can leave sandwiches on the counter and they don’t get eaten?  It’s not like he does anything for us.  We don’t have any robbers he chases away.  Our carpet does just fine without the piddle on it.  If we could figure out a market for all that hair he’s continually growing it might be worth it, but right now grooming the dog is just one more item on my never-ending checklist of To-Do’s.  Is all the hassle of dog ownership really worth it?

“Guess That DragonMonkey” was a total flop.  I only managed to get two videos of him – one from two months ago where he’s mumbling halfheartedly while burying his face in his dad’s neck….

And then there was Saturday morning’s video, where he looks straight at the camera and enunciates so clearly that it looks like I turned off the camera right before he launched into a rousing rendition of the Gettysburg Address.

Seriously, kid… you had to pick that ONE time to enunciate clearly?  I gave you free reign to mumble as much as you want, and all of a sudden you’ve developed the magical ability to say your “R”s and your “L”s, as well as every consonant in between?

Also, I will be wearing a large sombrero. 

You know – to shield my eyes from the sun.

 What, sombreros aren’t “in”?  Sweetie, Mama doesn’t like the sun in her eyes.  Here’s your lunch, lovebug.  I packed it extra special for you.  What’s that?  You don’t want to give me a kiss in front of your friends?  Awwww, hi guys!  I’m DragonMonkey’s mama!  I love my little boy so much… you guys be nice to him, okay?  Love you, DragonMonkey!  Have a great day at school.  Oh, here, wait…. Let me lick my thumb and try to dab at the imaginary spot of dirt on your cheek.  Okay, got it.  Love you!  Adios!  Ai-yi-yi-yi!

Revenge is a dish best served with a heaping side of humiliation.  Just you wait. 

Wait, where was I? 

Oh, yeah, that’s right. 

We’re moving!

If you remember, staying forever in California was never the plan.  I wrote about it here , and we meant it.  The Bean and I even made a trip or two out to the Phoenix area to look at where we would want to live, and we finally settled on Queen Creek.  The homes were a great price, it was a very horse-friendly community, and we both immediately felt at home beneath the wide-open blue skies and sun-baked desert earth.  There’s something about that desert that calls to both of us.  It seemed like the perfect fit.

So, naturally, we’re moving here:

Because, you know,  Phoenix and Portland are practically the same place.

They’re, like, both in the United States. 

They’re even on the same western half.

And they both begin with the letter “P”.

Can you believe it? 

The similarities are almost eerie.  It kinda makes the hair on the back of your arms stand up, doesn’t it?

The Bean and I realize this is a big decision, and a huge departure from what we originally had planned.  Sure, he might have received a fantastic job offer from a really great accounting firm.  And yes, the move satisfies my number one requirement, which is that it’s out of California.   Nevertheless, while The Bean has been to Portland many times, with the exception of a few summer weeks spent in Montana, I’ve never been further north than Santa Rosa, California.  Oregon is a complete mystery to me.

Well, okay.  It’s not a complete mystery.  I know it rains a lot there.  And, uh, it’s green, which is something I’ll have to get used to.  I’ve never lived anywhere green before.

Umm… let’s see.  What else do I know?

Rain?  Check.

Green?  Check.

Lack of sun?  Check.  What else?  Oh, yeah!  It’s been rumored that they have good coffee.  That’ll be nice.

Oh, and apparently they also have a thing called “hipsters” there, which I am looking forward to seeing.  It’ll be like bird watching, but instead of looking for brightly colored wings and differently-shaped beaks, I’ll be on the lookout for slouching 20 year olds with eyebrow rings and strange outfits.

With all of my deep wells of knowledge about the Portland area, The Bean and I immediately did what any sane couple would do when moving to an unknown area:

We bought a house.

We spent about two weeks shopping on the internet, and then once we had it narrowed down The Bean flew up there one weekend and we bought a house in a little town outside of Portland.  Since he is by far pickier than I am, I knew I could rely on his judgment.  Nevertheless, I asked him to take a lot pictures.  Ever considerate, The Bean took tons of pictures of both the inside and outside of the house.

Naturally, the camera had a severe malfunction and erased all but two of them.  Thank heavens for the pictures on the listing, or I’d be going kind of crazy. 

So, there you have it.  If you’ll notice, I have a little countdown clock on the right sidebar (not that I’m excited or anything.)  On June 1st, at way-too-early in the morning, The Bean and I will load up the kids, the cats, and the dog and start the eighteen hour journey to the Pacific Northwest.

To move to the state I’ve never visited.

To the town I’d never heard of before.

And into the home I’ve never seen.

Well.  At the very least, this should be an adventure!  Batten down your hatches, Portland, because here we come!

*********

(PS:  Congratulations,  Poniegirle!  Since we had so many correct guesses I assigned you all numbers, had The Bean choose at random, and you are the winner!  Shoot me a mailing address and I will get this box in the mail to you… Although, if I’m being honest, it’s probably going to be a week or so before I make it to the post office.)