‘READ. MY. LIPS. MY. CHAIR.”

I’m telling you, the ghosts of the German S.S. must be visiting Olive while she’s sleeping. Yesterday for the first time, I heard a new bark from her. Two quick barks. Distinctly very sharp in tone. I hear this as I’m sitting in the oversized pony print chair in the corner of my dining room. I had just settled my giant pin cushion of an ass into the chair to relax for a minute. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, DO YOU HAVE TO GO OUT AGAIN, OLIVE?” I whined. As I rise from the chair and walk toward the stairs, I feel a breeze slap across my behind as Olive races past me and jumps up into the chair I just climbed out of. “YOU LITTLE SNOT,” I say to Olive who sits in the chair looking quite contented with herself. Now I know what the dual bark signifies. It clearly states “OFF MY CHAIR. NOW.” And lest you think I’m just imagining all this, she just did it to me again tonight.