We all know them, we all tolerate them.
The symptoms start when there's a new (human) baby. Cutest, smartest most amazing child in the world. Fast forward 18 years, that cute, smart amazing man/child has retreated to the family dark, damp, scary basement. He, who could not figure out an electric pencil sharpener managed to get cable service to a television in the basement
Fast forward another 20 years, nothing has changed.
Then comes that puppy, the smartest, cutest, most amazing animal in the world. The difference between the new puppy and the new (human) baby? Nothing, zilch, zot. We are being regaled with puppy stories, puppy thoughts, puppy antics, puppy first time for everything stories. We smile and nod in agreement with the amazing puppy stuff.
Then the chew stage, here comes the naughty but still cute puppy stories, until he chews the leg off the good dining room table. Unconditional love is changing. House training, he runs to the back door which earns him good puppy rewards, he looks at mom and pees on the floor. We've all owned that dog who disagrees with having to 'go' outside, the floor has served him well for a long time, why must he now have to go outside?
The 'cute puppy' mommy is changing, when she speaks his name there is a snarl in her voice. Instead of 'where is my sweet puppy', it becomes where is that brat now?
He is still not house broken, at six months he refuses to even get up to go outside. You pick up the cutest, most amazing, smartest puppy in the world and chuck him out the door. The puppy mom is convinced he will never learn to go outside. The puppies name has become an expletive, neither name to which he responds. He has become surly, moody, disagreeable and downright unruly. The mom now asks everyone she runs into if they need a new family member, he is no longer welcome in the household. The dog, not the teenager.
Then one day he wakes up, takes a shower, gets dressed and goes to work at Wall Street, where he meets a girl, gets married and now has a litter of kids. Um, the teenager, not the dog.
The dog is still peeing on the floor.
