The Big Pretender

Years ago Bill Cosby had a book about parenting. In the book he talked about how grandparents are so much different than they were as parents.

"I tell my kids, This is not the same person I grew up with. You are looking at an old woman who is trying to get into Heaven." 

Well, I got a little taste of this when my daughter brought her

Persian home during her last visit. My husband doesn't love pets the way I do, but he tolerates them because of me. I want my dogs (at one time I had 4) to share my life with me. I like having them under my feet when I'm home.... I guess it reminds of when the kids were small. My husband will allow them in the house, but if I turn my back or have to run out for a second, I know that he is going to put them out... Immediately! He has never allowed any of our pets to sleep with us, and I'm okay with that because the Bulldog snores like a lumberjack and the bed isn't big enough for the Mastiff. Anyway, he had a completely different attitude about Bella, my daughters cat. He would pick her up and love on her, he even resorted to baby talk. He would walk into the bedroom while I was reading and seek her out then hold and love on her. He even went so far as letting her sleep with us. I really wanted to know.... "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?" We lost our cat last year so when Bella and my daughter went back to San Diego I had this little niggle of a feeling that he would be game for a new, sweet little kitten. When I mentioned it, immediately my husband returned to his former self and suggested that we already had too many pets (we have two), he doesn't like the shedding, blah, blah, blah. So I've been emailing him pictures of sweet little Persian cats, Ragdoll cats, thinking maybe, just maybe he'll give in. I now realize that he was just playing Pops to his grandkitten... He was enjoying spoiling Bella because he knew she was leaving in a few days... Grrrr. He may not be an old woman trying to get into heaven, but he has certainly managed to pretend himself into the doghouse (said with a sad, pouty face that usually gets me what I want)