So the other day I called my daughter Leane on the phone and the first words I hear are, “you’re in time out, go back there in the corner”… or words to that effect. In the background was all the kid yelling and daily commotion that I usually hear (and love) with a call to their house. Then came the normal “hello dad” stuff.
Almost without thinking, and already knowing the answer, I asked, “Who’s in time out”? With a sigh Leane answers, “Duke Duke”. “He just doesn’t listen”. (shocker!)
Of course I immediately started laughing because I was instantly transported back to my childhood and a nifty little wooden plaque, that hung near our kitchen table… So for every one besides my mom, who is already laughing as she reads this, here is the rest of the story:
The photo at the left is a replica of the original little Dog House plaque that we had, I just fabricated this one up a few seconds ago, but you get the idea. I think my dad brought it home from work one day and hung it up on the wall. Each of us 3 boys had a little dog with our name on it, and when we misbehaved our dog would get moved over and hung in the dog house. Well, as you may have guessed by now, my little puppy had an almost permanent spot in the dog house. In fact I can’t ever recall a time when anyone else’s dog ever found itself in the dog house. Then one day I discovered that my dog had now been glued into the house with wood glue! I was in there to stay! Forever!
To this day, more than half a century later, no one has ever “copped” to doing the glue job. You know the remarkable thing was I never really got bent out of shape about it. I just figured… “Hey, now I got a cozy little dog house, all to myself”. “Looks like I get to sleep out in the back yard”…
I wonder if that had something to do with my love of camping?
Anyway, as I write this, days later, I am still laughing.
I think it’s pretty clear at this point Duke certainly got his fair share of my DNA.
So, Duke Duke, I’m hoping that our shared DNA turns out to be a good thing.