Can I whine about my girl friend's lack of understanding? Read on.

My girlfriend can be a real pain sometimes, and also has the memory of an elephant. I bet she remembers being in the womb.

Yesterday I stopped at her house and when she opened the door, I held up both hands in front of me and shouted, “TA DAA!” In them was the most adorable Basset Hound you’ve ever seen. She just stood there in her neon green pj’s and said, “What’s that?” I said, “What do you mean, what’s that and what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not speaking to you, don’t you remember and what’s with the puppy?” I quickly scanned my brain for my latest infraction, but coming up short, I just grinned and announced, “Meet Elvis.” “Elvis?” She stated flatly. I said, “Yeah, isn’t he great?” “Oh yeah. Dandy, now go away” she replied as she started to shut the door.

I stood there looking in disbelief. “Wait! Can’t we come in?” I asked. Again, flatly, “No.”
“Ah…come on. We won’t stay but a sec. I just want you to get to know Elvis. To know him is to love him. Trust me,” I said.

“TRUST YOU? HA! I trusted you to house sit and you not only killed every cactus plant I owned, you ate them.” Whoops. I had a perfectly good explanation and so I said, “So that’s what this is all about? Look, it wasn’t my fault. Someone told me they were good sautéed.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, how about last week? You tricked me into dating your friend saying he was prefect for me. Only you forgot to mention that Mr. Right was 5’2 and –” --- “Now wait a minute, what have you got against short people?” I asked. “I have nothing against people shorter than my 6’ height, you idiot, but people who have made guest appearances on Jerry Springer are not, in my estimation, dating material!”

I knew the next thing out of her mouth would be that time in high school she had a date that night with a senior and I said, “Oh that stomach ache is just nerves. Here, take one of these little chocolate pills I’ve seen my grandmother use when her stomach hurts. Heck, since you’re so nervous, take four. That should do it. Says here, “Ex-Lax works fast.” It did.

She obviously needed space so I said, “fine.” She repeated “fine.”

Once home, the first thing Elvis did was leave a calling card. Make that cards. While cleaning up both messes, he redesigned my new, leather “sure to give you the Executive look,” handbag to the distressed look by dragging his sharp claws from one end to the other.

Normally, I would have called my girlfriend and cried; however, gut instinct said don’t go there. So doing the next best thing, I popped “Gone With The Wind” in the VCR, grabbed a box of chocolates, looked at Elvis and said…“Elvis, you ain’t nothing but a hound dog.”