Of New Furniture, Booby Traps, Overlords, and Hubbies Growing Wise
2004-10-21, 6:17 p.m.

I finally got through last night to the Land of Guru. Mrs. Guru is alive and well and all things are fine with the chair. I knew she would have a pie handy somewhere!

No, really, as I suspected, all things are fine with the new chaise because it has been commandeered by the Overlord himself, Jeb the King of Jebtonia.

Jeb, whose every whim is catered to. Jeb, who is only slightly more spoiled than my two pampered pooches. How do I know this?

When I get a new piece of furniture, I generally do not want it breathed on, passed by, brushed up against, or even gazed at too long because it might mar the finish. I dare Hubby and children to so much as consider being in the same room with the new object for, say, a year or two, just so I can enjoy it. As soon as they are unleashed, the new bit of furniture gets smacked around and within weeks becomes what we edumacated people call �junk�. My dogs, having near equal footing with my children, are also banned from the new goodie until the allotted time has passed. My dogs are better behaved than my kids the majority of the time, so I might make furry snuggly exceptions.

Enter the Gurus new chair. 30 seconds in place, and Mrs. Guru had swathed it in sheets and patted for Jeb to come enjoy his new throne. He can now look out the window without having to balance his totty doggy frame on his hind legs. He can sit on his haunches and survey his domain and hardly have to move his jowls. Life is good when you�re the Overlord. Bow and bring bones, you knaves. Big meaty bones.

I also concluded that Mrs. Guru is far nicer to her better half than I am to Hubby. She actually gave him a thought before hauling the lounge home. A brief thought, but a thought nonetheless. For years I have added and subtracted with our d�cor and waited for Hubby to notice. After several years he grew wise, and now enters our abode like a scene from Mission: Impossible, on high alert for the latest booby trap. Moved the chair? OW! There go the shins. Bought new curtains? OW! There goes the wallet. Mrs. Guru, on the other hand, has the patience of a home decorating saint, spends time looking around for *just* the right thing, and the results are excellent. I do wish patience could be bottled. She'd be rich just off me.

Speaking of impatience, my latest conquest arrived in today�s mail. Well, I was a nice little girlie on this one, and consulted Hubby�s opinion before bidding, an exceedingly rare event. I got lamps. Perfect vintage lamps for our living room. Hubby liked them, and he really liked that I snagged them for under ten bucks. But man, are they whoppers! The kind that would make marvelous murder weapons were I so inclined, the kind the jilted secretary picks up and whops over the head of her pompous boss/lover when he blows her off in favor of his shrewish wife. The kind that you know Alfred Hitchcock is lurking somewhere just off-camera. Hoo boy, they�re perfect! Hubby and kids cannot touch them until March 2007. That ought to be long enough.

And now, the quest for the perfect shades.

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