I am a self-professed girlie girl, and I become more so every day. I am growing into the color pink, glittery phone covers, mimosas, and my office poshness. Perhaps, I am growing young! A few years back my best friend bought me a Justin Beiber toothbrush that played one of his songs while I brushed my teeth for Christmas. It was my favorite present! Never mind that I was in my twenties my second time around. I danced every morning while brushing my teeth. It is impossible to have a bad day when you start it out dancing!
I have the perfect dog to accessorize my life – Chloe Bear Bain, Yorkie princess. She serves as the CEO of our home as she calls the shots. She allows us to live with her as long as the bone supply does not run out. I have been issued an eviction notice a time or two! She gets very excited over new clothes – a trait no doubt inherited from her Mommy! She also co-authors most of my blogs (she demands to sit in my lap as I write!). Her favorite color is also pink with sparkles. Let’s not forget the attitude.
Friends, welcome to my not so LEGALLY blonde life. I have to pay for mine!
All was going well in our girlie girl world until my dear sweet man decided that since living on a farm we NEEDED a Jack Russell Terrorist and it should be a male to even the odds. The girls outvoted him 2-1 every single time!
Since I wanted to make him as happy as he had made me when he placed Chloe in my arms, I found the “perfect?” Jack Russell. We named him Mojo so that my husband could say he was “looking for his mojo” or he had “found his mojo.”
When I brought him home, Miss Priss looked at him and then me as if to say, “What the hell is this?” She was less than impressed and I was reminded that failed to get her to sign off on it – insert puppy snub here.
Mojo began to rock our highly glam world with his toxic gas and ass fan (tail) that he used to direct those fumes in our direction every single time. He appeared to have a smile on his face. Hmmm. Smarter than he looked? I dare say, “Yes.”
In an effort to begin to class him up, I began to call him Sir Meauxgeot. “Mojo” seemed to limit his ascension. It was like calling him Bubba. It is all about vision after all. I began to buy him shirts and ties, which her cheerfully agrees to wear. Aside from the fact that he can be distracted by a ball faster than men can be with cleavage, Sir Meauxgeot is surprisingly boardroom ready.
The truth be told, he has taught me some of my most valuable lessons in business, especially in the area of negotiation.
When I have to leave the house, Sir has to stay in his “house.” However, he refuses to go into his house without a treat meeting his approval. I normally have to offer him numerous things before he decides. He always holds out for the best deal. I have learned the one that throws out the first offer loses – every time. Something better always comes along! He never tires of negotiating especially when I am in a hurry.
Sometimes he gets tired of me and pretends that he needs to go outside. He rings the bells on the door and waits for me to go outside first as he remains inside staring at me from the window. It seems that he has trained me to go outside. His wish is my command.
He loves to sleep and you dare not disturb him. If you do – deploy ass fan. He clears the couch, and the princess and I often leave in such a hurry that we even leave our posh pink blanket behind.
It would seem that the princess and I are the ones that have been schooled. His book on business will be in bookstores near you soon!
Oh, and Sir Meauxgeot is much too sophisticated for Justin Beiber. He howls at the thought.
Until next time,
C & C