The Joplin Globe, Joplin, MO

October 27, 2012

Mike Pound: Scapegoat can come in handy at times

By Mike Pound

— Our furniture is moving again.

I hate when stuff moves in our house. Well, I don’t mind when the pets move in our house. We need to have the pets move every now and then so we know that they aren’t dead. Most of the time our three cats spend their time lying on furniture that they aren’t supposed to lie on. Every couple of hours, one of the cats will raise its  head, yawn, stretch its legs and then go back to sleep. A few hours later, one of the other cats will do the same thing, followed a few hours later by the third cat.

It’s pretty much like a session of Congress.

Shilo, our German shepherd,  spends most of her day on her pillow upstairs in our bedroom. Occasionally, if Shilo gets hot, she’ll get up and go into the bathroom and lie on the cold tile floor.

Shilo is not exactly Rin Tin Tin.

While it’s a good thing for our pets to occasionally move, it’s not such a good thing for our furniture or appliances to move. Last year, we remodeled our kitchen. And when I say “we,” I meant “my wife.” My wife and Brian, our contractor, would talk and then my wife would ask me what I thought and before I could tell my wife what I thought, she would walk away.

To my wife’s credit, she does ask for my opinion. She can’t just can’t bring herself to listen to my opinion. And really, can you blame her?

Part of the kitchen remodel called for our refrigerator to be moved to where our oven had been and for the oven to go where the refrigerator had been. It’s been a year, now and I still find myself trying to cook frozen pizzas in our refrigerator and cool beer in our oven.

I don’t react well to change, is what I’m saying.

This past week, my wife embarked on a remodel of our living room. The first step called for our TV to be moved from the west side of our living room to the east side. Of course, when you move the TV, a corresponding furniture move also has to be made.

A word about our living room. It’s not so much a “living” room as it is a “stay out of it so, when people drop by, we can pretend we use it and they will think we are neat and orderly people” room.

The real living in our house takes place in our family room, which is shielded from the casual public. In order to get into our family room, a person would have to pass through a series of  Fort Knox-like checkpoints designed to give my wife enough time to pick up everything in our family room and throw it into the laundry room.

When my wife began the living room remodel, I asked if she would please try to not move the chair that I read in. It’s hard to read in the family room, what with my family being in it and all, so I like to read in the chair in the living room. My wife lets me read in the living room as long as I promise not to leave whatever it is I’m reading in the room.

“I don’t want it to look lived-in,” my wife says.

True to her word, my wife did not move my chair. However, she did move the table next to the chair where I sit my coffee while I read the paper in the morning. When I discovered that the table had been moved I did what any veteran husband would do. I went to my wife and calmly and rationally expressed my feelings vis-a- vis the moving of the table.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, sometimes I kill myself.

Nope, what I did was move the table back where it belongs. And if my wife gets mad at me I’m going to do what any veteran husband would do.

I’m going to blame it on the pets.

Do you have an idea for Mike Pound’s column? Call him at 417-623-3480, ext. 7259, or email him at Follow him on Twitter @mikepoundglobe.