This Full House Archive

Category: Doofus-Dawg

  • I Need a Smartphone to Tell Me I Have a Smartphone

    I’ve been trying to convince my husband, Garth (not his real name) that he really DOES need a smartphone and NOT just for updating your Facebook status, sharing in some Doctor Who love on Twitter or playing Bubble Shoot and Words With Friends.

    [Ahem]

    Not to mention…ohhhhhh, LOOKIT! HOW CUTE!…Doofus Dawg is napping with his favorite blankey…hang on a minute.

    Doofus on the Couch
    [point, shoot, share, DONE!]

    My current obsession with Instagram is another really good example (okay, so I’m a little late to the party, I have an android, enough said!) however, I did not post the pic of Doofus-Dawg.

    It’s really not ALL that great (seriously, have you seen Neil Kramer’s stuff?) I blame Andy (a distant relative of Siri, or something like that) he’s not the sharpest android on the block, but I love him anyway.

    Besides, THEN what would I blog about?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Aaaaanyway, what was I saying?

    [stares at stains on couch]

    OH YEAH!  Garth (not his real name) finally broke down, got himself a smartphone and we now have epic Bubble Shoot marathon sessions together, almost every night before falling asleep on the couch, and everything.

    “You two and your silly little phones.”

    My oldest daughter does not have a smartphone and, now that she’s working and has started paying for some of her own stuff (thank you Jezuss!), she wants an iPhone.

    “Andy, are you really just a silly little phone?”

    I also do NOT have an iPhone (I only pretend that I do) but, Andy and I?  Yeah, we’re good.  In fact, my smartphone has enabled me to share a lot of experiences that I would otherwise have trouble…you know…remembering (DAMMIT!) Andy has effectively become my blogging muse.

    Another example:  I took this fun pic, while hiking with my oldest daughter, earlier this week and shared it on Twitter.

    Aaaaand, yes, only LATER after walking for nearly 2 hours, in the wrong direction, did I realize that we could have used Google maps to figure out just where in the hell we were.

    [point, shoot, share, OH SH&T!]

    Moral of the Story:   Having a smartphone really DOES come in handy…whenever you remember you have one…I mean…or something like that.

    If anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs nursing my bad back and looking for the owner’s manual…DAMMIT!

    Stupid smartphones, dumbass Andy.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:  I am very honored to be working with Hallmark as a Life is a Special Occasion
    featured blogger — this month’s post is all about Kit Kats, Click-Clacks and the realization of just how much I really hated grade school!

  • Wordless Wednesday: Sympathy Pains

    Sympathy Pains

    Our youngest is home sick on the couch with a stomach bug and looks to me Doofus-Dawg is having some serious sympathy pains.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:  Did you ever forget your kid's birthday?  I did (okay, almost!) Sharing memorable moments over at Favorite Finds and my friends at Hallmark.

  • Wordless Wednesday: Can I Haz Some?!?

    Doofus Dawg 2011

    I double-dog dare you to tell Doofus-Dawg, "NO!"   Go ahead, I'll wait!!!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Wordless Wednesday: No wonder they don’t chase him off the couch!

    Hope & Doofus Chillaxing
    P.S.: He saw me coming and shoved his head under the pillow in a "you don't see me sort of way," too.

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:
    Smoothing Our Way into Chillaxing Summertime Snacks
    Including Craft Fairs and Art Shows Into Your Summertime Routine

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • You Know You’ve Hit the Big Time When Your Dog Gets Fan Mail!

    Okay, so I don't usually write about marketing to mom sort of stuff here on this blog anymore (but, I do on this one!)

    Because, this is where I like to think out loud with very little thought given to word count or social media metrics.

    Still, as a freelance writer and blogging professional (AM SO!) I do receive a lot of pitches (some good, mostly bad) and probably read twice as many posts and articles, every month, about some blogger being wronged, in some way, by yet another company who, you know, just doesn't get it.

    I read bad pr pitch stories like this and can't help but pine for the days when moms (like me) would write (for writing's sake) and were THRILLED just to have made it on each other's blogrolls.

    Blogging is hard.  Blogging while under the influence of children is damned near impossible, without a strong network of online (not to mention, unplugged) family and friends, I mean.

    On the other hand, I've personally worked with some very amazing people, collaborated on equally awesome projects and forged many new fantastic friendships along the way.

    Still.  Contrary to what others may think (or, feel) I don't think I'm special.  Nor, do I expect preferential treatment, or, expect stuff to be given to me. 

    In other words, I am NOT famous.   But, my dog is:

    Subject: Doofus-Dog, Would you like to help feed the hounds?
    Date: Fri, June 17, 2011 11:28 am
    To: lizthisfullhouse@gmail.com

    Dearest Doofus-Dawg:

    You are a brainy thing, aren't you? And we adore your absolute candor as you share your thoughts at This Full House.

    And so, dear DD, we'd like to see if you want to try our food.

    We are XXXXXXXX and have real food for really smart dogs like you.

    Ask Liz, though.

    Not that she's your boss (no way!) but she might have an opinion or two.

    But if she says "Yes," we'll send over our new food (called XXXXXX) for you to try.

    Want to?

    Aaaaaand, my absolutely most favorite closing in the whole wide Interwebs…EVUH:

    With Dirty Socks, Kitty Poop and All Other Things You Shouldn't Be Eating,

    XXXXXXX

    Maybe I should be insulted.  Perhaps even feel a little annoyed (at best) but, I'll be boiled in my own lip gloss if I'm not absolutely giddy telling you that my dog gets better pitches than I do!

    Because, I'm funny like that.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Don’t Get a Dog, Unless You Want Mine!

    There's a great conversation going on at my friend Melisa's blog (a.k.a. the newly revamped SuburbanScrawl.com) questioning whether or not parents should get a dog for their kids, even though, you know, they really, really don't want one?!?

    Doofus
    For those of you who have visited here before and been reading along (glutton for punishment, eh?) ya'll know, already (or, is it y'all, I forget?) my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I have this love/hate relationship with Doofus-Dawg.

    Although, for Garth (NHRN) if the dog lives to see another day, he's lucky.

    FOR EXAMPLE:  We hosted Easter dinner for both sets of grandparents and, once they left, we were enjoying a lovely glass of port, with my SIL (I know, sounds so oh-la-la, but, heck my SIL bought it back from SoCal and, well, I'd be happy to share some with you, but it's ALL gone now) when…BLAM!…something in the house fell, HARD!

    Garth (NHRN) ran to the playroom/laundry room, thinking one of the kids MUST have taken a header.

    I thought it was the ceiling (stupid rain!)

    My SIL said it came from the kitchen.

    [eyes go WIDE]

    DOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFUSSSSSS!!!

    MORALE OF THE STORY:  If you are considering getting a dog, I suggest a hairless breed, no higher than your shin, when standing on its hind legs.

    Or, you could always borrow one, then send it home and blame the parents when it does something really, really bad.

    Even better, take my dog…instead…PUH-LEEZE!!!

    Aaaaand, for the love of meat remember to put away your Easter ham!!!

    [blank stare]

    My story doesn't help your decision any, I know, and I'm really sorry about that, truly I am.

    THE UPSIDE, HOWEVER:  This blog post is NOT about my kids.

    You're welcome!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Don’t Make Me Have to Use UPPERGROWL!

    Dog Sitting -- No, Doofus is NOT Happy!

    We're dog sitting for very dear friends of ours and, uh, no Doofus-Dawg is NOT happy and not just because Sassy enjoys sitting in his favorite chair, either!

    Sassy and Glen

    Although, Sassy has stayed with us before, I swear, Doofus is still not finished getting over it, yet and I kinda, sorta think he's a little afraid of her, too.  This time, however, she seems to have grown real attached to my son.

    Photo1696.jpg

    Sassy is at Glen's side, constantly, all weekend and even growled at my youngest daughter for tossing one of her game pieces, in frustration (okay, so maybe it was Hope who growled) but, I still thought she was really being, you know, sort of cute (the dog, I mean!)

    Sassy and Garth (not his real name)

    Until, I cleaned up after dinner with the inlaws and came into the living room to find Sassy lying next to my husband, Garth (not his real name) IN MY SPOT and, when I tried squeezing in, next to them, well, this time, she really DID growl!

     

    Photo1701.jpg

    Yeah, I know, right? Still, you can't help but admire her, uh, self-determination and yes, I realize that she's just another dog with extreme territorial issues and epic gastronomic concerns (especially, when fed too much table food, or cheese…UGH!) on the other hand…I guess the same could be said about a lot of people (ahem) too.

    So, who am I to judge, right?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Yep, it's going to be a looooong week.  I hope Glen gets home, soon!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Doofus Domesticus vs Phasma Phasmatis

    Exhibit C
    Exhibit A:  Came home to find the cat's dish and cereal bowls neatly stacked in the living room.

    Exhibit A
    Exhibit B:  Where they were when I left the house, this morning.

    Exhibit B
    Exhibit C:  Doofus-Dawg avoiding eye contact which, clearly, is an indication that he's got something to hide….not to mention, he can reach the sink AND the stove…PINHEAD!!!

    Truth be told, the fact that he neatly stacked the bowls, when he was done…you know…cleaning them…is sort of freaking me out…okay, more than just a little…or, maybe we have ghosts.

    Either way, I wonder what it will take to get them to fold the laundry?

    Since, you know, I can't get my kids to understand that the dish washer is dirty….DAMMIT!

    On the other hand, I could just let the dog take care of it, seeing as he doesn't seem to mind licking the floors and vacuuming the crumbs off the carpets, either.

    But, THEN what would I complain about?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Feeling Squirrel-y?

    Damn Squirrels!
    I have issues (don't we all?) and, if you were to ask me to list, oh, I dunno, at least 5 of them, off the top of my head, they would be as follows:

    Dirty dishes in the sink:  especially, when the dishwasher is dirty.  Drives me nucking futz, to the point where even my neighbors know when, "THE DISHWASHER IS DIRTY…DAMMIT!

    Silent treatments:  are like nails ripping into chalkboard (you're welcome!) the absolute worst form of torture, right?

    Wet towels on the floor:  especially, when the washer is empty (see dirty dishes, above.)

    Doofus-Dog on the couch:  makes me itchy.

    Squirrels:  ransacking the bird feeders (see picture above) I hate, Hate, HAte, HATe, absolutely freaking HATE squirrels.  Aaaand, they don't like me, either.  How do I know?

    This morning, I was able to address 2 outta 5 of said issues, to my complete and total satisfaction.

    [blank stare]

    The fact my husband, Garth (not his real name) doesn't seem to have these sort of issues, is just plain weird, don'tcha think?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Do I Love Him?

    Doofus

    I haven't slept with Garth (not his real name) since, Christmas!

    [eyes go wide]

    In the same bed, I mean, SHEESH!

    We've been married for 20 years and, well, as Doofus is very willing to demonstrate (DAMMIT!) the couch can be pretty comfy, too.

    Still, our kids are getting older, we're feeling old-ish (more and more, everyday, dammit!) I guess life is just rubbing our nerves raw, at the moment.

    Okay, you can cut the tension with a cotton ball and the hardest part is, you know, pretending like our kids don't notice.

    Oh, we're fine — just in case you were wondering or someone closely related to us happens to wander in here and read into stuff he, or she really shouldn't.

    SLAM!

    It's just real hard to wake Garth (not his real name) once he sits down, poor guy, so it's just easier to let him sleep with the dawg, while I watch Fiddler on the Roof, for the bazillionth time, right?

    [the sound of crickets chirping]

    Still, it also raises one very important question:

    (Garth NHRN)
    Do you love me?

    (Me)
    Do I what?

    (Garth NHRN)
    Do you love me?

    (Me)
    Do I love you?
    With kids in 4 different schools
    And this cruddy flu going around
    You're upset, you're worn out
    Go inside, go lie down!
    Maybe it's indigestion

    (Garth NHRN)
    "I'm asking you a question…"

    Do you love me?

    (Me)
    I'm a dork!

    (Garth NHRN)
    "I know…"

    But do you love me?

    (Me)
    Do I love you?
    For twenty years I've washed your clothes
    Cooked your meals, cleaned your house

    PAUSE:  Okay, so Garth (not his real name) does ALL of this too (maybe, even more) but, that's NOT the point, here!  Continue:

    Given you children, milked the cow (no, not really, SHEESH!)
    After twenty years, why talk about love right now?

    (Garth NHRN)
    The first time I met you
    I didn't think we'd last the day
    I was scared

    (Me)
    I was shy

    WAIT A MINUTE:  Okay, for those of you who knew me B.C. (before children) you can all STOP laughing now! Continue:

    (Garth NHRN)
    I was nervous

    (Me)
    Truth be told, so was I

    (Garth NHRN)
    And now I'm asking,
    Do you love me?

    (Me)
    But, I'm such a dork!

    (Garth NHRN)
    "I know…"
    But do you love me?

    (Me)
    Do I love him?
    For twenty years I've lived with him
    Fought him, laughed with him
    After twenty years the couch is his
    If that's not love, I ask you, WHAT IS?

    (Garth NHRN)
    Then you love me?

    (Me)
    I suppose I do

    (Garth NHRN)
    And I suppose I love you, too

    No, it doesn't change a thing, but even so, after twenty years, it's sorta nice to know — not to mention, hear myself say it out loud, pretend my blog is a stage and that I sing REAL good, too!

    Move over, Doofus (the dawg, I mean!)

    © 2003 – 2011 ThisFullHouse.com