Lori cleared her throat. “I mean, perfectly normal foranyone, not you and me, specifically or even vaguely.”
I swallowed hard. “Fair enough. Please continue.”
Lori gave me another one of those looks, like she was trying to figure me out.
Join the club.
“Anyway, Heather,” Lori said. “You need to have a serious talk with your boyfriend, outside of the bedroom, if possible. Tell him what’s on your mind, why it matters to you, and also let him know that it can be easily resolved. Now, if he reacts with defense, denial, or tries to deflect it back to you by mentioning one of your own bad habits, then you have a bigger problem. But my best advice is have a solution ready ahead of time. Don’t just complain and leave it at that. Have options available, other areas in the house for him to do those things you mentioned. And good luck!”
“Thanks so much, Lori. I also wanted to say that I loved your other show with the love songs and dedications.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
I shook my head. “Hold up, wait a minute, time to put some truth in it. Heather, don’t go anywhere.”
Lori took her eyes off the monitor and glanced back over to me. “What seems to be the problem?”
“The problem is, the advice you gave was absurd, anticlimactic, and if you asked me, not even close to realistic.”
“Maybe unrealistic from a caveman’s point of view, but we already know how you would have responded to her dilemma.”
I gestured to her with my hand. “Do tell.”
“You would’ve just spewed out two words.”
“And what are those two words, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Lori leaned forward in her chair. “Dump him!”
I chuckled, not because she was funny, but because she was almost right.
“And that would have been that,” Lori added. “End of story, like Dr. Tough Stuff magically solved everything in the blink of an eye.”
I denied Lori’s prediction with a wag of my finger. “On the contrary, I would never tell anybody to dump their significant other unless I had all the necessary information and could make an informed decision. You dropped the ball on that one since you didn’t find out everything you need to know before dispensing your sugarcoated, diabetes-inducing advice.”
“Do tell.” Lori looked proud to mimic me. “What should I have asked her, Dr. Crackpot?”
“Watch and learn.” I cracked my knuckles, blew on them, and adjusted the microphone. “Heather, what kind of pizza does your boyfriend eat in bed?”
Lori snorted. “That is the most ridiculous question ever. What do his eating habits have to do with their relationship problem?”
“It gives me the first impression of the man’s personality. Heather?”
“Pineapple.”
“Justpineapple? Nothing else?”
“Nope.”
“And do you like pineapple on your pizza?”
“Never,” Heather answered. “I hate pineapple.”
I grinned at Lori and then continued. “And what does he watch on the television while he’s in bed?”
“NCIS.”
“Anything else?”
