For the Love of Bebé (an SWB post)

Me: Beaumont. Would you please get that disgusting thing off the couch.

Beau: It’s not a ‘thing’. It’s my Bebé.

Me: I don’t care what it is. It’s disgusting. Please take it away. Now.

Beau: If you throw it, I will.

Me: I am not touching that thing!

Beau: Bebé.

Me: Beau….

Beau: (oh so sweetly) Yes Louise?

Me: Make it go away.

Beau: That’s your job Louise. I am the dawg. You throw and make things go away. I run and fetch them back.

And maybe…. just maybe… I win this argument!

Please come and join Beau on his blog this morning! He’ll be so grateful for your support!

All you gotta do is CLICK HERE

Goosey Tales

It was as if in the early hours of the morning the sun had cajoled the trees with its exhortations, “You can do it! You can do it!” And the leaves had whispered to the branches, “Leaf out! Leaf out!” And the branches had called to its roots, “Push! Push! Push! and suddenly, spring burst out in glorious, splendorous, luscious greenery.

Beau and I walked along the river in the early morning light savouring the sounds and sights, occassionally, he stepped to the water’s edge and grabbed a sip of cool mountain water and continued to run along the trail.

And then….

He spied a lone Canada Goose floating in the middle of the river.

With a leap and a bound, Beau splashed into the water and started madly paddling towards the goose.

The goose started madly honking and swimming in circles, flapping her wings as if to say, “Go Away!”

Which I think is exactly what I think she was saying!

Beau started paddling faster and trying to bark as he went and I stood on the banks calling at him to ‘Come back here!’

Beau finally heeded my calls and turned back towards shore.

The goose never quit honking, but she did quit flapping her wings when Beau turned around and came back to shore.

And thus ended the peace and tranquility of the morning.

And Beau’s only comment was…. “I think she was the goose on the deck! If she can invade my peace and my home, why can’t I disturb hers?”

What a dawg!

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Oh… and here’s what the trees looked like…

Spring Splendour

The “Get Out Of Control” Guru (an SWB post)

Beaumont: So…. I suppose I should wish you Happy Mother’s Day.

Me: That’s lovely Beau. Thank you.

Beau: You know, you’re really the only mother I’ve ever known Louise. I don’t remember my birth mother. She gave me up so young.

Me: She had no choice Beau.

Beau: But aren’t you the one who says we always have a choice.

Me: Yes. But the choice isn’t necessarily about what’s happening in your life, it’s about what you do with what’s happening. And for your birth mom. she had zero choice about giving you up. She could only choose how she adapted to that reality.

Beau: Do you think she’s ok?

Me: I’m pretty sure she is Beau. Remember how we met one of your younger sisters at the park awhile ago? She’d only been apart from your mom for a few months and her hooman mom said Maya, your birth mom, was doing really well.

Beau: Oh right. I remember. But what about me? What if I’d wanted to choose to stay with my birth mom?

Me: Well… we hoomans don’t give you dawgs much choice in those matters Beau. We kind of dictate what’s going on.

Beau: Hmmm… well… does that seem right to you?

Me: Oh my. That’s a pretty tricky question Beau. See, we hoomans need you, probably more than you need us so, to ensure our needs are met, we make sure we have control.

Beau: Hoomans are weird Louise. Why can’t you just share it?

Me: Control? Well… then it wouldn’t be control would it? And believe me, hoomans do like their control.

Beau: (smiling innocently) Sort of like how you don’t want me to go in the river and think you can keep me out?

Me: (laughing – sort of) Yeah. Like that.

Beau: (more innocent, head caulked sideways smiling) Is control good for you Louise?

Me: Hmmm… Well, I can tell you this much. Being in control may not always be the best thing but not having it sure can make me feel very unhappy!

Beau: Then consider me your “Get Out Of Control Guru”.

Me: What’s that supposed to mean?

Beau: Well… Being in control isn’t good for you…

Me: I said it’s not always the best thing….

Beau: Semantics. The fact is, being in control is not good for you so, I have made it my mission in life to help you break your control freak habits.

Me: Seriously? You think that’s your role?

Beau: Isn’t that the role of every child Louise? To help their mother loosen her habit of being controlling?

Me: Oh. You might have a point.

Beau: Of course I do. Anyway, next time you tell me not to go in the river and I choose to ignore you and go in anyway and drop my ball so you have to come in after me, think of it as a gift.

Me: A gift?

Beau: Yeah. A gift that is helping you stretch your ‘letting go of control’ muscles.

Me: Oh my. Such an…. ummm… interesting perspective of your disobedience Beau.

Beau: It’s not disobedience Louise. It’s me, practicing the second role of the child – Give your parents lots of opportunity to find the value in all things. And the value in your having to get in the river with me is you get to have fun too!

Me: Stepping in ice cold water is supposed to be fun?

Beau: If you change your glasses, or at least your attitude you will see it is Louise.

Me: Am I supposed to say thank you?

Beau: Not today Louise. It’s Mother’s Day. You get the day off.

Me: Does that mean I can go back to bed?

Beau: Only if you can beat me to it. And you know that’s not happening. I’ve got four paws to your two feet.

Me: But aren’t you supposed to be extra-nice to me on Mother’s Day?

Beau: I am. I’m letting you have control of the keyboard to type this.

Me: But you let me do that every Sunday Beau.

Beau: I know. Aren’t I wonderful! You get to feel like every Sunday is Mother’s Day!

Me: (sighing) Of course. Silly me for not seeing that.

Beau: Hey! I’m the gift that just keeps on giving!

Me: You’re out of control Beau. You know that, right?

Beau: Nah. I’m just a gifted “Get Out Of Control Guru”. Remember?

Me: How could I forget?

Beau: It’s best you don’t. So… you finish up here and I’ll see you later. I’m going back to bed. Oh. And don’t forget to sign off with my wishing all the mother’s out there, no matter how the gift of being a mother to a child unfolded in their life, Happy Mother’s Day!

Me: Yes Beau.

Beau: Good girl. Now that’s obedience.

Me: You’re pushing it.

Beau: Role No. 3 of the child. Push your mother’s buttons whenever possible…. Oh. and don’t forget to wish my birthmom Maya a Happy Mother’s Day too. Without here, you wouldn’t have the gift of me in your life!

And so it goes… Beau always finds the ‘truth’ in everything. And he definitely knows how to push my buttons!

Beau: Hey… Just doing my job, Louise. Just doin’ my job!

Sigh…. And so it goes. Beau goes back to bed and he and C.C. leave no room for me …

Regardless… Beau is right. No matter how you came to call yourself a mother, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there! And Maya… Thank you for the gift of Beau in our lives. You would be proud of your son. He’s the best.

Beau: You mean Best Top Dawg. Right?

Me: I thought you went back to bed.

Beau: I did. But… seeing as it’s Mother’s Day, I thought I’d move over and make a little room for you.

Me: How… kind.

Beau: Here’s where you get to make a choice Louise. Say thank you and come back to bed or… play martyr. Your choice. Your Mother’s Day.

Sigh (again). And so I do. Say thank you and squeeze into the tiny space he’s left me on the bed. It is Mother’s Day after all!

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As it’s Mother’s Day, no need to ‘click’ to go to Beau’s blog – Sunday’s with Beaumont! 🙂

Bring on the Fireworks. An SWB post

Beaumont: So…. are we finally back to regular programming, Louise?

Me: Yes Beau.

Beau: Good. So can we please get rid of the ‘artsy’ photo too?

Me: What do you mean? I like it!

Beau: But it doesn’t really do me justice now does it?

Me: I think it does.

Beau: Well… we all know where your taste lives don’t we.

Me: Dare I say it… On my tongue?

Beau: There you go being all obtuse again.

Me: And there you go being difficult. Again.

To read the rest (his birthday is Tuesday and he has something to say about that!) please join Beau on his blog — Sundays with Beaumont — he loves to see you!

Slobbers and licks…

Beau.

The Stuffie and the Read Beau – an SWB post

Dear Beau,

I know we’ve never met and you think I’m just some fluffed up shaggy dawg toy but seriously, I am in awe of you and I so want to be friends. It’s not like you’ll have to share your food or even your toys, but we could play together. I’d let you pull on my fur and if you wanted, you could take out my squeaky and give it a few tweaks.

…….

Beau is at it again. He hopes you come and read the rest on his blog!

Click HERE.

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Dear FauxBeau,

Thank you for your letter. Your request has been filed in the ‘hell freezin’ over’ bin and will be considered in due course (actually once I’ve given Louise enough cold shoulder she feeds me steak and takes me to the mountains for a romp in wild flower strewn fields blowin’ in the wind. Kind of like how your letter will be if it ever thaws out.)

….

___________

Beau is at it again. He hopes you come and read the rest on his blog!

Click HERE.

This Ain’t No Bad Attitude. An SWB Post

Beaumont: Louise. I’m confused.

Me: Oh dear. What now Beau?

Beau: Excuse me, but that is not an appropriate response to my comment.

Me: What? You’re the comment police now?

Beau: No. But I do serve as your conscience.

Me: (sigh) I don’t need you to ‘serve’ as my conscience Beau. I’ve capable of doing that myself.

Beau: Well if that were the case, you wouldn’t act so unconscionably at times now would you?

Me: Oh Dawg. Can’t you ever give me a break?

Do come and read the rest on Sundays with Beaumont! He really wants you to take a break! 🙂

click HERE

Rapper Top Dawg Beau (an SWB post)

Beaumont: I don’t get it Louise.

Me: Get what Beau?

Beau: Well… Morning has broken / I’m awoken / and you’re sitting at your desk / putting my patience to the test.

Me: Are you trying to be funny?

Beau: Who me? I’m just trying to use words creatively to get your attention.

Me: I don’t like rhyming couplets. I don’t write in them. I don’t think you should speak in them thus forcing me to type them.

Beau: Hey Louise. When the muse calls… I follow.

Me: Don’t you go throwing my words back at me, Beau.

…… To read the rest, and to check out Beau’s rad rappin’ style, (ok. so it’s not that rad and is quite bad but hey! he’s a dawg… 🙂 ) (and yes, I know that was my (pretty bad) attempt to rap) but seriously, there’s lots of fun at Sundays with Beaumont today so c’mon over to his place – you know what to do…. just click HERE…

Where’s My Gift? An SWB Post

Sundays With Beaumont – Where’s My Gift?

Me: C’mon Beau. We’ve got to get up.

Beau: Why? I’m cosy.

Me: We’ve got Wilma’s birthday party to go to at the park.

Beau: Whaaatttt???? A party! Why didn’t you say so!

Me: I just did.

Beau: Haha. Yeah. I know. But why didn’t you say so early so I could have put on a tux and maybe brushed my hair.

Me: Oh don’t worry about that. I was thinking of putting on your coat.

Beau: The cow coat!!!!!!!

Me: Yeah. The cow coat.

Beau: Not happening.

Me: But it’s cold outside.

Beau: I repeat. Not happening.

…Does he or doesn’t he? Wear the coat? Come visit Beau on his blog today and find out! There’s birthday treats too!

Just CLICK HERE to read the rest! 🙂 he’ll be so happy to see you! With or without his cow coat.

We Need To Talk

Beaumont: Louise, we need to talk.

Me: Uh huh. About what?

Beau: Like you don’t know.

Me: Ummm. Beau. No I don’t.

Beau: Yes you do.

Me: (sighing)Honestly Beau. I don’t. I can’t read your mind.

Beau: Really? And all this time I thought that’s how you wrote these conversations. By reading my mind.

Me: (sighing deeper) Sarcasm is the refuge of the verbally lazy.

Beau: Well… I wonder who you’re talking about. You do put the words in my mouth you know…

To read the rest of Beau’s conversation, click HERE and you’ll be redirected to his blog, Sundays with Beaumont.

He loves visitors! And he loves to make people smile!

Please Don’t Sing (A SWB post)

It stormed last night. Thunder. Lightning. Wind. Rain.

Beaumont doesn’t like thunder and lightning. Nor wind. They scare him.

I awoke at around 4am to the sound of him standing over me on the bed, panting noisily.

Me:  Beau. What is it?

Beau:  Huff. Huff. Huff.

Me:  Go back to sleep.

Beau:   Huff. Huff. Huff.

Me:  Oh. It’s the lightning and thunder.

Beau:  Huff. Huff. Huff.

Me:  C’mon. You’re already up on the bed, just curl up and go to sleep.

Beau: (placing his wet nose on my cheek) I’m scared.

Me:  It’s just a storm Beau. It will pass.

Beau:  That’s a stupid saying when you’re in the middle of it.

To read the rest, please join Beaumont on his blog today: HERE