I’ve always considered myself to be someone who follows the rules.
I mean the important ones. I’m totally OK with ripping the tags off of my pillows and wearing gobs of white after Labor Day.
But the important ones, yes. I guess that’s just how I was raised.
The down side that I have found in following the rules is that you come to expect that everyone else is doing the same. And when someone breaks the rules, it can catch you by surprise. Making that face. That ‘I totally can’t believe he/she just did that’ face.
My neighborhood has a rule that dogs must be walked on their leashes. Maybe your neighborhood has a rule like this.
So there I was yesterday afternoon walking in my little neighborhood with my little dog at the end of a little leash.
All of a sudden, a streak of pink lightening flashed and I found myself staring down the muzzle of an extremely vocal, unattended Yorkie.
She was adorned in a coordinated series of little pink bows.
She had better hair and nails than I have.
She was coming after my poor, leashed doggie and I.
I was so surprised by this development that I snatched up my dog (he has requested to remain anonymous for reasons that should be eminently clear) and began backing into the flora lining the sidewalk.
The pink bows were advancing.
I was retreating.
And my back was up against a row of cacti.
I will refer you to the seat of my yoga pants for confirmation.