Remember when you were little and you wanted something really badly? You knew which parent to ask first, didn't you? Maybe your mom was into teaching "independence" and expected you to save your money so you could experience a sense of pride after you have acquired that longed-for object all on your own. Your father....now he was a different story. Daddy traveled for business a lot and wasn't home much. He missed out on lots of "firsts" and never even noticed the "phases" you went through. What did that mean?
He had guilt...Daddy guilt. You knew that if you went to him first, you had increased your chances of getting what you wanted by seventy-five percent, easily. So, with that life experience in mind, I approached Mr. M's wife first. I just happened to be riding my bike past their house and happened to see them out with their new puppy and figured she could "feel him out" (her hubbie) for me. When I told her about our desire, no, our intense yearning for a dog her face fell slightly. As it turns out, she was the one who had to talk him into the puppy in the first place. "Oh my gosh," she whispered, "What bad timing. Just this morning the puppy had an accident and Mr. M said he'd never let anyone have a dog in a rental house..." my stomach plummeted to my feet.
I tried to brush it off like it was no big deal. After all, it was my fault for not asking in the first place. But I think my dissappointment showed plainly on my face because B looked at me and then his eyes dropped to the pavement. It was clear he knew we wouldn't be getting a cute little furball of energy any time soon. When his eyes finally did meet mine it was if they said, "How could you do that to me, mom?"
I had raised his hopes higher than the Sears..I mean the "Willis" Tower and then just as quickly torn them down and dashed them into the asphalt below. There was no question about it...
I sucked.
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