…routine

I’m learning how to call everybody to attention. It’s me, the drill sergeant letting everyone know I’m here, I’m interesting and I’m interactive. Speak to me, acknowledge my worth, or at least nod in my general direction.

The only time my job receives any notice is when it isn’t done. I rise to my family’s greatest expectations, and they are learning not to expect much…

My routine is becoming so routine that I’m exploring new ways to make old chores interesting. I’m acting out the creative side of me like a toddler exploring his world. Today I have got to find some excitement in mixing up a batch of pink underwear from the pink and white in the wash load and the myriad of possibilities that exist with a macaroni and cheese theme.

The key is attitude. Do I feel obligated because someone else dictates or am I free to be the wind beneath their wing?

I wonder if I’ve regaled myself to the position just slightly above the family pet. If I don’t perform the requisite jumping, bouncing and face-licking upon arrival of the master, do I risk being kicked to the back yard?

Reality Bite: Next week, I’m signing up for obedience training