A friend of mine came to visit us for a long weekend and we had a list of things that we we wanted and needed to do. My husband stayed at home with our older dogs and our newest family addition…the “terror puppy”.
OK, let me rephrase this…Lucy, our new puppy (I introduced her >>>here<<< on my kitchen blog) is very cute and we all fell head over heels in love with her…but she is a puppy, meaning she can be a handful and she is constantly in trouble and that’s how she got the nickname “terror puppy”. It looks like our newest family member is a Husky-Chow-Shepherd-??? mix and even though she is only about 10 weeks old, she is into everything and very headstrong. If the puppy could talk it would tell you that her name is “No No”, because that’s what I say now 24/7…everything in our house seems to be a “No No”. I didn’t notice that before, but it’s the truth…our house is not child or puppy proof. So of course I couldn’t just leave the puppy at home with all the No No’s and she is way too young to be left alone. We just got our first snow and leaving the dogs outside wasn’t an option either…that’s why my husband became the puppy sitter for one day, so we Ladies could spend the day out-and-about.
We talked back and forth on the phone all day long. I called to make sure everybody in our home was still alive and well (two and four legged family members) and he called because I am the “hiding Queen”. If you will ever meet my husband, you will quickly learn that he has to call me, because I hide things in our house and the way it looks like I do it on a daily base. Pretty much every conversation starts with “Hi Honey, where is…” or “Hi Honey, where can I find…”. 🙂
I had a good time all day long and listening to my husband on the phone made the day even better. The routine questions “where is…” and “where can I find” were interrupted by “guess what she just did…” and he gave me a quick update and told me all the things Lucy aka terror puppy just did. I had a very good time all day long…I am easily entertained :-).
It was early in the evening when I called him a last time, just to ask if he needed anything…and he did. He needed cigarettes. “Honey, can you stop and bring me 2 packs of cigarettes, I am out”. “Sure, not a problem” was my reply.
I hang up and told my friend that I would stop at a gas station, so that I could buy the cigarettes. She just looked at me in disbelieve. “You are going to buy cigarettes”? “Yes, but not for me”. She just looked at me and her next question floored me “can you do it”?
“Why would I not be able to buy his cigarettes”??????
And then it darned on me what she meant. Can I go into a gas station and buy cigarettes without being tempted? I bought cigarettes for him a few times right after I quit, but haven’t ever since. So I listened to my inner voice. How did it make me feel? Would I be in trouble in the gas station? Would I feel tempted?
Isn’t it like sending a sober alcoholic into a liquor store and asking him to buy booze? IF I am an addict, wouldn’t just the look of a pack of cigarettes send my mind into a spin? That’s what I learned at the quitsmoking boards. You smoke, you are an addict and always will be. What would happen? Would I drop down to the floor and cry hysterically? I have a wild imagination (can you tell). I saw myself opening a pack, grabbing a lighter from the counter and smoking it, right then and there.
All of a sudden I was curious and concerned. I didn’t see any reason not to buy his cigarettes. After all, I don’t smoke anymore, so what’s the big deal?
I walked into the gas station, stood in line behind an older gentleman -a smoker- and crinkled my nose for about a minute. This cold, stale smoke is lately bothering me a lot. Did I really smell like that for 35 years? Goodness!
When it was my turned I just ordered 2 packs of cigarettes, paid and put them in my purse. Nothing about it was tempting. Not the look, not the smell…nothing. I bought them like I buy his shaving cream. He needs it…I don’t.
When we got home I gave him the cigarettes I asked “aren’t you concerned I could open them and start smoking again”. He just looked at me “No..not at all, why would I”. Then he stopped and looked at me, he felt guilty, I could see it in his face. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it”.
It’s like we both start to forget that I smoked once. It’ s going to be a year soon and it is so far in the past, that I have a hard time picturing myself as a smoker now. Although my husband, who is a very thoughtful man, starts to forget that I was a smoker once.
I look at it as a test and would say I passed :-).