I came home last week to some malfunctions in our little lives.  I was greeted by voicemails from Mr. Apron to the effect that the car wouldn’t start and he now was using the butt of his shoe to encourage the key to start.  When I came upstairs to the office to listen to the voicemail and check my e-mail, I was greeted by a computer virus called “Virus Protector”.    You know, one of those ones that masquerades as something you’d want to install.  Thankfully, I clicked on nothing, but the damage was done.  As soon as Mr. Apron dealt with crisis #1 (car), he came home and we dealt with crisis #2 (computer).  Then on Wednesday, with the car part ordered and the computer safely at the shop, we went out to acquire crisis #3 (puppy), admittedly self-imposed. 

And all throughout the weekend, we made trips to Petco, opening up our bank accounts as Molly left presents around the house and destroyed all plastic water bowls we put in her crate in an effort not to be cruel.  And all throughout the weekend, we house-trained our Golden Girl, through the unceasing rain, the horrendous winds, the leaky window that drips into our kitchen, and my ill-temper at being stuck at home dealing with the above. 

But today, after discrete trials with food reinforcers, Molly is learning “Sit down.”  And, because I am a speech-language pathologist and think of such things, I shall report to you that she sat down on the rug with verbal prompts, 0 or 1 repetition, and a gestural cue in 15/15 trials with Finley as a peer model.  Also, because I think of such things, I know I will have to increase the difficulty to include different situations such as feeding time, getting her leash on,waiting to go outside, and crossing the street. 

But today, after Mr. Apron picked it up and hooked it up on his lunch break, I am blogging from our very new computer. 

The car part has yet to come in, though the mechanic did call to tell us he forgot to order it.  And the window installation guys finally called yesterday to make an appointment.  New windows tomorrow mean a drier kitchen, and a juicier tax credit for energy savings in the year to come.  Woohoo!

Unfortunately, our new computer uses a USB-exclusive hook-up system, so the printer is sadly waiting for a converter, and my beautiful marvelous ergonomic keyboard sits, um, somewhere, until we get a converter for it, too.  Until then, my poor fingers are cramping up.  Pity me.  Please.  Don’t get me wrong; the new keyboard is sleek, small, flashy, and its black with silver trim matches the computer, but I’m one of those wackos who prefers ergonomic.  I actually asked for it for a birthday present in college.  My nails are so long I keep hitting the caps lock by mistake and I can’t find “End” or “Home”.  I am one of those who learned to type before we had  a computer, using a piece of paper my father traced 26 circles on using a penny.  And I’m one of those who uses keyboard shortcuts and get compliments on her typing position and speed.  So don’t tease.  Just point me to a USB-keyboard converter cable, and be on your merry way. 

Welcome to our home, new computer.  If I could only find the key labeled “House-training”.

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