A couple of days ago, I was moaning about my Day Job and how people can be grumpy with each other. Now that our well has died and we have no water, I’m no longer worried about who I have to work with. They could throw Hannibal Lecter into my job and I wouldn’t care. It’s not even on my radar.
Funny how perspective can change just like that. All I can think about now is how much money I’d trade for a long hot shower.
We have two akitas, River and Ocean. We got Ocean to help our overly-anxious bullmastiff, Lobo. When Lobo passed away, my lovely hubby decided Ocean was lonely and needed a buddy (side note: He’s a therapist. He can’t help thinking those things) and we got River. Another akita.
River grew up in a kennel without much interaction with humans because he was originally intended to be a breeding dog. We’ve been trying to fix that by socializing him, hugging and kissing him and basically spoiling him rotten.
We’ve been making steady progress. He sleeps on his cushion, has the run of the house and even knows how to take treats without snapping at your fingers like a hungry piranha.
Then, in a leap of faith, we decided to leave them alone in the house for a couple of hours and see how he’d do on his own.
We returned to this.
The culprit in question was clearly River, since he was still in the middle of his hors-d’oeuvre when walked in.
My hubby might be a therapist but so was Hannibal Lecter. I ushered the dogs quickly outside and tried to think of the bright side of things.
“Look at it this way, we get to buy a new couch…” I tried.
He wasn’t convinced. Apparently, couches are really important to therapists.
Is there such a thing as a realistic romance hero?
I have to admit I’ve read a book or two where the hero drove me crazy. He was just…sooo nice. Maybe I’m a sceptic but I think real men have issues and can be nice but can also have days where they’re not so nice–just like us gals. These guys were so nice they’d put Santa Claus out of business.
What’s up with romance and the perfect hero? I read somewhere that the recipe for a good romance was an imperfect heroine and a blemish-free hero. She could have any issues, imperfections or range of personalities but he had to fall madly in love with her at first sight and had to be perfect–with a capital P.
Really? Do women really buy that?
I’m not asking for a wife abuser or a grump. I just wonder if a less-than perfect hero wouldn’t make a wonderful lead in a romance. I wonder, would women not like him because he had his faults? I think we would.
Take Beauty and the Beast. He’s a wonderful catch…if you don’t mind a little hair and we won’t mention the growling or his anger-issues with furniture. Or what about Star Wars? Han Solo made more than one woman’s heart beat a little faster but he didn’t exactly have a clean record.
I say imperfection is what makes our heroes interesting and charming. I’m not suggesting we take Hannibal Lecter as our role model, but we don’t have to have a perfect angel as it either. Perfection is incredibly boring.