Oh Yeah! Oh No! Okay.

Meet John Henry. He is a couple weeks old and currently lives in Pennsylvania. But in September, he's moving. To Pensacola.

For almost two years our puppy policy has been:

Me: Can we pleeeeeeeeeeeease get a puppy?
The Hus: It's not the right time. We need a fenced-in yard. Puppies tie you down. We'll get a puppy later.
Me: *mope*

The other day, seemingly out of the blue, the Hus says, "Maybe we should get a puppy." I laughed and agreed. But then he was serious. I very heartily agreed and offered a backrub. We looked online. Two days later, we put a deposit down on John Henry, our little yellow lab from Pennsylvania. We bribed my sister to pick him up (it takes shockingly little to bribe people to pick up puppies) and bring him to Charleston. I will drive up and meet her and our little John Henry, whom the Hus will call Hank.

But here's the funny thing about how the Hus and I make decisions. It's goes like this: Oh Yeah! Oh no! Okay.

Oh Yeah: We get the idea into our heads, usually an idea we've been non-verbally mulling over for at least 6 months. Then, seemingly all of the sudden, the mulling of the Hus comes to an end (my mulling takes 6 hours, his takes at least 6 months) and we say, essentially, "Oh.. this would be a good idea. Let's do this."

Oh No: Once we research the idea, the price and the inconveniences, the negatives growl at us and we cower and think about reconsidering, "Oh no!" we say, "We just received a high credit card bill. Are we ready for a puppy/baby/cathode ray television?"

Okay: Having gone through the obligatory cowering (it's very important to allow oneself to be scared by the upcoming decision, at least for an hour or two), we look at the situation logically and, all things having been considered, decide that, "Okay... this is a big decision, but we're quite ready to be responsible now."

Oh yeah. Oh no. Okay.

It's psychology.

This is precisely the way we decided to start trying to have kids (Which was a year ago. Uteruses do not always cooperate and apparently do not run on the same fast acting principles as do the Hus and I). This is the way we decided to get a new computer and this will be the way we decide to buy or not buy a house, buy new cars, and so on for the rest of our lives. Although I hope we never have to decide on nursing homes this way, since I plan to never BE in a nursing home, unless accompanied, not only by the Hus, but all of our lifelong friends, so we can have wheelchair races and tease eachother's grandchildren and pretend to be senile.

I say that to say this: Introducing, Mr. John Henry. I can't wait for September 5th.