A little consideration goes a long way...

by Lynette Allen

Welcome to my June column this month ladies. I think for my first column at the beginning of this year, I introduced my family to you, Nick (otherwise known as 'Gorgeous Nick' (but that tends to give him a big head) or 'The Chosen One' as he likes to be referred to), plus there are my 2 boys, Georgie and Barney, the furry, 4 pawed kind, as opposed to the 2 legged human kind. Anyone who knows me, will also know that I have one hundred and one stories to regale of their antics in our household. So this month, I thought you might like to be party to one particular incident last month that may make you smile.

Ok, picture the scene. It's half past midnight, the house is quiet and I'm well and truly in dream land, when all of a sudden, a flash light goes on right in front of my eyes and I wake up with such a shock that I think either aliens have landed in my bedroom or an intruder has decided to take a closer look at my laughter lines. Of course neither of the two actually happened, it was in fact, The Chosen One coming home from work (yes, this is a normal time for someone who manages a hotel) and he's had the audacity to turn the landing light on, to brush his teeth! As you might imagine, so disgruntled am I, that a full scale argument ensues with me reminding him that he has the consideration of an ox and him reminding me that he's done exactly the same thing tonight as he's done every night for the past 7 years, except I've never woken up! Barney and Georgie of course do the only sensible thing at this time in the morning and return to their beds with huge sighs and a roll of their eyes whilst I humph around, desperately trying to a) ignore The Chosen One and b) resume my deep dream state - both of which are impossible of course as I've got such a cob on!

The following morning, tempers have calmed. However, I'm still determined not to be woken up with the landing light anymore and think about how The Chosen One can climb the stairs without disturbing the sleep queen. So off I venture into his bedroom drawer for the Christmas gift I bought last year...the bedtime reading light. Right, I think, he can jolly well come to bed with that and an evil smile spreads across my face. All credit to him, midnight came and went, and barely a sound was heard, except for the stumble half way up the stairs and yelps from both The Chosen One and Barney as they fall over each other by the vague glimmer of previously mentioned reading light. Ok, so that didn't work! Next, we moved the downstairs lamp to the top of the stairs but with a much smaller bulb...perfect, except for one small flaw - there is still some distance to be covered between the lamp being turned off, following the brushing of one's teeth and the bed. The following night, it was Georgie (apparently) who caused the commotion by sleeping directly across the entrance to the bedroom and I awoke to find The Chosen One hopping round the bedroom having tripped over the dog and stubbed his toe...all was not well!

Next day and it was off to the vet's. Georgie's been having hormonal problems and has basically been trying to hump everything that moves (including my best friend) and Barney (bless him) has been unsteady on his feet of late, 'old age' we concluded on Barney's part and 'just being a man' on Georgie's, so a quick trip to the vet's with them both.

It turns out that the solution to Georgie's rampant ways, is a quick shot of hormones to see if they work before the big chop, if you know what I mean, and Barney it appears, has cataracts forming, well I could have cried! One child on HRT and the other about to go blind! Our vet informed us that Barney's vision would be very fuzzy in dim light, hence the tripping up the stairs of an evening when the lights are low.

All four of us get back in the car, slightly subdued, Georgie for having overheard that this may be his last chance before his bits are removed, The Chosen One and I for being reminded that our dear Barns is in fact turning into more of an old man than The Chosen One himself and Barns for being resigned to the fact that he's likely to be more mollycoddled than ever before (although I secretly think that could be his life plan anyway). We turn out of the vet's car park in silence as we ponder on the news. 'Right', says I, 'Turn the landing light on when you come to bed, Barney can't be allowed to fall on the stairs anymore, he might hurt himself!' You may be able to picture the look on The Chosen One's face in your mind as I say these words with all seriousness, determined that my loved one will find his way to bed in safety without fear of tripping (Barney that is, not The Chosen One).

The coaching tip? Well, it probably needs to be said that consideration of one's husband should possibly come before that of the dog and that Victoria Stillwell from the TV show 'It's me or the Dog' will tell anyone that one's husband should appear leader of their pack in their own home and be allowed priority on the safety stakes in the whole 'ascending the stairs without breaking one's neck' thing, and so we've come to an agreement. That I apologised for my lack of consideration towards The Chosen One and that of course, if he needs the landing light on now, he shall have it without an utter from yours truly in the middle of the night. Of course, between you and me, it's Barney (who sleeps my side of the bed) that I open a sleepy eye for in the middle of the night to check he's safely tucked up in his bed and not The Chosen One, but don't tell him that!

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