The Great and Powerful Snow Oz

dangerFor two days, the weather forecasters warned us that Snowmageddon was about to descend upon us.

Hide your wife, hide your kids and batten down the hatches. We could expect 2, no 3 feet of snow before it was all said and done. Governor Christie called a State of Emergency, shut down New Jersey transit, and cancelled all pizza delivery. Mayor DeBlassio closed New York City at 11pm (except for the bars, of course). And moms all over the NY tristate area descended upon the supermarkets in a blizzard induced maternal frenzy and cleared the shelves of milk, bread, water, and boxed wine in anticipation of a week or more of possible loss of power, flooding, and worse yet, school closings. The kids, of course, were overjoyed. The dads were contemplating how much chiropractic care they would need after shoveling a path for the dog to go out to pee.

And the moms were wondering if it would be safe to drive in two feet of snow so they could dump their kids at someone else’s house for a playdate.

We watched The Day After Tomorrow on Netflix to mentally prepare for the end of time. Then we said our prayers, went to bed, and when we woke up, there was…
nothing.

The Blizzard of 2015 fizzled.

The Snowstorm was a No-storm.

The whiteout was a washout.

“Oops,” said the meteorologists.

“Nevermind,” said Mayor DeBlassio

“How’bout them George Washington Bridge lane closings,” said Gov. Christie.

In all fairness, there there were a few inches. But nothing like the weather forecasters had predicted.

They said a foot… we got five inches.
They must all be men.

©2015, Beckerman. All rights reserved.

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A Very Monty New Year

monty cute face“Monty has some New Year’s resolutions,” I informed my husband.

“Is that so?” he responded, without looking up from his computer.

“I’m serious,” I said. “He really wants to be a better dog in 2015.”

My husband closed the computer and eyed me suspiciously. “He told you this?”

“Well, not exactly,” I admitted. “But I felt his remorse, so I helped him write up a list of ways he can improve upon his dogginess next year.”

Truth be told, Monty did not need to do much to be a better dog. He was a great fetch dog (even when he wouldn’t give back the things he fetched), a polite member of the family (even when he passed gas and tried to blame it on someone else), and an incredibly affectionate animal (even when he tried to French kiss the mailman). I really didn’t think he needed to improve upon his dog skills.

However, as a Golden Retriever, he set a high bar for himself and I could sense that he wanted to set some goals for the New Year… and who am I to get in the way of his self-improvement ambitions.

“Number one,” I read from the list. “Monty endeavors to break his underwear and sock chewing habit, or at least cut it down to one pair of boxers a day.”

Monty nodded in agreement. My husband also approved.1798346_10154862032575354_4351427782607084150_n

“Number two. Monty promises to dig fewer holes out back so our backyard will no longer resemble the surface of the moon.”

Monty crossed his paws. I wasn’t sure he was 100% behind that resolution.

“Number three. Monty resolves not to pee in the house when a service technician comes to repair something,” I continued.

Anywhere in the house?” My husband wondered.

“He can’t promise the floor but he guarantees the family room rug.”

Monty and my husband exchanged conciliatory glances.

“Number five. Monty agrees not to steal any food off the kitchen counter, as long as it’s not steak, chicken, eggs, tuna fish or peanut butter.”

My husband looked at me skeptically. “So basically he’s agreeing not to steal vegetables off the counter?”

“Take it or leave it,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. Monty quietly spiked the football.

1544354_10154504594015354_264147041878947526_n“Okay, last one,” I added. “Monty resolves not to bark at invisible intruders, phantom cars, and imaginary squirrels in the middle of the night when we are sleeping.”

“I LOVE that resolution,” my husband said emphatically.

“… but he asks that in return, you don’t keep him up with your snoring.”

My husband narrowed his eyes at me. “The DOG said that?”

I nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll try to do that as long as HE doesn’t hog the bathroom in the mornings.”

I squinted back at him. “Monty doesn’t use the bathroom.”

“…And I don’t snore,” my husband retorted.

We glared at each other for a moment. “Tell you what,” I said. “Monty won’t hog the bathroom if you won’t snore and I won’t bark at the mailman.”

Monty licked himself and my husband pecked me on the cheek.

“Deal. Happy New Year!”

©2015, Beckerman. All rights reserved.

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