Personal Statement

Personal Statement

Monday, March 12, 2012

Countdown to the New Old House: Spring Break in the Apartment 'Hood

No sooner do I think the thought that "it's really great the kids have the week off from school, and it's particularly great that I took today off, because I can get used to the time change gradually and push myself to go to bed - and wake up - a little earlier every day," than the UNHOLY NOISE STARTS. At first, I decided that I was imagining something, or perhaps hearing a distorted version of something that Spouse was watching several rooms away, but surely I did not just hear a "WOO!" . . . in a MALE's voice . . . originating from the vicinity of our driveway. But then I heard it again:

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

A second later: a girly shriek.

Ohhhhkay. Processing . . . . Neither the wooer nor the shrieker sounds particularly perturbed . . . so I'm guessing that we're not talking about an episode of domestic violence. Or a fire - although WAS THAT A DOOR SLAMMING? Okay, THAT definitely was a door slamming. THAT made our kitchen cabinets rattle.

And THAT was another . . . are they really "woos"? I have heard of woo girls, but never a woo guy. Perhaps I AM hearing sounds of distress. I am no longer sure.

I inquire of Spouse: is he hearing what I am hearing?

Spouse looks at me blankly. I occasionally worry that Spouse is going deaf. But then I decide that Spouse CAN hear, he just chooses not to. On account of how I have sensitive enough hearing for the both of us.

MORE door slamming. I look out of the window of Spouse's office. No smoke. No signs of rioting or looting.

Spouse FINALLY hears what I am hearing, peeks out the front door - and confirms that a party is in progress.

Ahhhhhhh . . . because the college kids have this week off, too. And we live amongst a metric ton o' college kids.

It is now fifteen minutes later. Notwithstanding my "back to sleep" campaign plans, I'm still awake. On account of how the party is still ongoing. I now suspect that the actual THEME of the party is "slamming doors." But at least the wooing has stopped.

Or perhaps not. Because the Sheltie just heard something, and she started barking. Which set the Dorgi to barking. It's interesting when they bark, because he only contributes one bark for every ten of hers:

Ruby (high-pitched):  Ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff!

Ace (low-pitched):  Arf.

Ruby:  Ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff! RUFF!  RUFF!  Ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-RUFF!"


Ace: Arf.

I tell myself that Ace takes after his dachshund parent, which is why he howls occasionally:  he inherited the hound gene, not the herding dog gene.

But I fear that the dichotomy in their "announcing" style is actually illustrative of that statistic about how many words a woman uses in a day versus the number of words a man uses in a day - apparently, it extends to canines.

The barking has stopped now. And, also, the slamming.

Going to try to go to bed now.

No comments: