Leader of the Pack

I read Jack London in junior high school, so I really have no excuse.

I know what an alpha dog is and why one is required in a wolf pack.

Have you met my family?

Noticed anything particular when we convene?

What do you get when you marry a first-born to a first-born who then produce at least two additional first-borns?

That’s right.

Almost daily campaigns for the Ultimate Dictator of the Free World.

I can tell you right now who the winner should be.

I have a pretty wicked stink eye.

You don’t want that.

Hubby and I can, just barely, keep the children at bay.

But when you’ve been married almost 30 years, everything from opening windows to reading a novel has been cause for WWIII.

Yeah, I’ve read every marriage improvement book out there.

Somehow I figured that if I could just pinpoint the “problem”, our home would become the Good Ship Lollipop.

All the books give you different advice and you try them all, just in case you missed a spot.

One of them said, “Don’t go to bed angry.” I could choose between going sleepless for a week or crashing on the couch.

One advised, “Keep regular date nights.” It didn’t have advice for the feuds over which restaurant, which outfit, or what was safe to discuss once you got there.

One of my favorites insisted on “setting firm boundaries”.

So I told Hubby he could have a bureau in the corner and everything else, as far as the eye could see, was my domain.

I scent-marked it with Lysol.

When you’re snapping at each other, it’s hard to hang out with your “newlywed phase” friends.

They’re all kissy and cuddly and honey-booboo and you’re thinking, “Man, where are the drinks?”

I understand that wolves mate for life, but I put the “tea” in “team” and that’s where it stops.

You just don’t appreciate all the twists and tribulations of raising five children, creating hearth and home on a daily basis, and what it takes to keep our pack from going on a rampage.

Throw me a bone, people.

But I’m all done reading books on strategy.

This mama wolf is tired of the growling and snarling.

For my next maneuver, I’m gonna slink outside and howl at the moon.

And hope at some point we wander into the civilized world, where we move past our fierce need to be right and into a domesticated confidence that shares the honor.

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