No, this is not about Donald Trump, or any politics. So, today, I got in an altercation at Costco with a couple old ladies. It ended when I told them to stop acting like “such bitchy old sea hags and move along.” When recounting the incident to Pat, I told him I didn’t even have to resort to ripping on their bad fashion sense. That is always my final card, and it makes Pat’s head explode.

Over ten years ago, we had an “incident” on vacation that left Pat so pissed at me, it was a couple days before he started talking to me normally again. So, yeah, you know it had to be bad.

It was in October, and we were in a small town in upper MN called Tofte. We go to a great resort there, because a couple of the units allow dogs. and for some reason, I end up with high-maintenance dogs that end up on vacation with us. This was back when we had Klaus and Ava. Klaus was a 100+ pound German Shepherd with a huge chest and head. Ava was a silver sable, so she looked a little wolf-like, and was also 90+ pounds. Both were intimidating, if you didn’t know them and they came running up to you.

So, we were at this huge boat launch with the dogs, on Lake Superior, and they were running loose, with Klaus swimming, and Ava barking at him. It was just us and the dogs, until this big RV pulled up.

Out came an older couple, dressed head-to-toe in white outfits.

And Klaus and Ava ran up to them, despite me screaming their names and screaming for them to “COME”…shockingly, none of my dogs listen very well…and Klaus and Ava actually had YEARS of obedience training.

And…they proceeded to jump all over this old couple, with muddy paws, creating brown works of art on their pristine white outfits. I freaked out, screamed for Pat, and ran to the truck and locked myself in it.

Pat had to go up to the couple, apologize profusely, gather up the dogs, and get them in the truck. He them jumped in the truck and started SCREAMING AT ME…telling me what an asshole I was for running away and leaving my horrible dogs and a big mess for him to bat clean up on. He told me if I can’t get my dogs to listen to me, I really shouldn’t have dogs, and a bunch more blah blah blah I don’t recall anymore…but let’s just say I have seen Pat REALLY batshit-crazy pissed maybe five times in 17 years, and this was one of them.

When he paused to catch his breath and yell at me some more, I said, “Well, it’s THEIR fault anyways.”

“What the hell are you talking about? The dogs fault? The old couple? What…the…FUCK?????!!!”

“The old couple,” I replied. “It’s THEIR fault.”

“How in the fuck is it THEIR FAULT your dogs are assholes, and you ran away and now they are covered in mud?” Pat screamed at me.

“Well,” I explained calmly, “It’s after Labor Day and they are dressed in all white. Everyone knows you don’t wear white after Labor Day.”

Honestly, if he could have gotten away with strangling me at that moment, he would have. Instead, he literally didn’t talk to me for a while…and that is how my winning Trump card was created. When all else fails, I point out their bad fashion choices and move on.