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"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

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Saturday, March 5, 2011

Like Peeing on a Bicycle

Our little puppy girl, Molly, had an accident last night.

"She's been dry for so long I thought she'd forgotten how to do it," my wife said, slightly sullen.

"Oh, no-- she's all over that," I replied, changing into pajamas at 7:37pm on a Friday night ('cause that's how we roll, 'Cuz).

"Like riding a bicycle," Mrs. Apron sighed.

"No, no," I chimed in unhelpfully, "like peeing on a bicycle."

Setbacks suck-- there's just no doubt about it. Imagine recovering from surgery, re-learning how to walk. Taking baby steps, then grown-up steps, then strides, and then, one day, you just... fall down. Imagine the pain-- the hurt. The embarrassment. The fear of complete and abject failure.

It's real.

What if this is one of those dogs that simply cannot be potty-trained? What if we are going to spend the rest of our natural lives setting the timer on the oven, taking her out every three-and-a-half hours, and watching her like a hawk when she's "loaded."

She's loaded. She's a fricking dog, for Christ's sake. And, like a Borderline in a psych hospital: she runs the show.

I was trying to think of a time in my life where I had suffered a marked setback, so that I could make a pointed comparison between myself and the peeing dog, but I couldn't think of one. Which, I guess, is good. Of course, if you are of the mindset that setbacks make you stronger and braver and tougher and more plastinated, then maybe it's not so good. Maybe because I'm caucasian and bespectacled and I tuck in my shirts and have a M.A.Ed. and a Volvo, I'm not going to have too many setbacks. Maybe I'm genetically altered to have some sort of forward trajectory-- like a mini jet propeller up my tuchus.

More likely, though, I'm not.

No doubt a time will come in my life where I will fall on my face on my way to achieving a goal. I've had fewer setbacks than I've had out-and-out failures. I've either achieved things, or I haven't. I either get the lead, or nothing. One book published, the other, um, not. One play produced, the others, um, not. One girl wife, the others, um, not. I either do it, or, um, not. And maybe that says something indicative about my personality. Maybe I'm doomed to succeed, or preordained to fail, or both, but I have yet to embark on a long-range goal where there have been roadblocks and hurdles and impasses that I have had to negotiate, subvert, challenge, or dust myself off and live to fight again the next day.

There's been no re-grouping for me. No one step forward and two steps back.

One thing I guess is for sure, and that is that life is a lot like peeing on a bicycle: it's uncomfortable, a little bit dangerous, and it only feels good for a very short time.

1 comment:

  1. I hope you and Mrs. Apron succeed in baby-making, despite setbacks. *e-hugs*


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