I'll take arguing for 500, please, Alex

DOUBLE JEOPARDY - Being tried twice for the same offense; prohibited by the 5th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. '[T]he Double Jeopardy Clause protects against three distinct abuses: [1] a second prosecution for the same offense after acquittal; [2] a second prosecution for the same offense after conviction; and [3] multiple punishments for the same offense.' U.S. v. Halper, 490 U.S. 435, 440 (1989).

When Sadie was a small puppy, our vet, a wonderfully wise woman, advised us to early and regularly perform the "alpha roll" with our little cocker spaniel, to teach her who was boss. I looked it up just now on google to see if it was alpha roll (because we rolled her over on her back) or alpha role (because we were demonstrating to her that we would be in the role of the alpha dog) and apparently it is no longer an approved dog training technique. Rats. But it seemed to work swimmingly for us.

I also put my babies to sleep on their tummies.

I've attributed Sadie's sweet submissive spirit today to our diligent training. And I've told everyone who will listen that that is the be-all and end-all to insure compliancy and proper respect in your canine companions.

If only it were so easy with kids. There is something in each of my children, some rebellious particle in their DNA, some defiant chromosome that compels them to argue with EVERY SINGLE THING I SAY. I can't imagine where they get it.

As a child I was the most back-talky, sassy, mouthy daughter ever. I don't know how much of that was due to me being an only child until I was 10. I'm pretty sure I was an intolerable, obnoxious, smarty-pants. I think I'm better now, but I have not learned to hold my tongue very well to this day. It has brought Jim no end of joyous, tender matrimonial moments.

So in the hair-pulling, jaw-clenching instances when I feel like screaming at my kids, "STOP ARGUING WITH ME AND JUST SUBMIT!" I hear this little snigger in the corner of my brain, "ha ha! You've got that coming, you know....this is payback for all the times you sassed your mom."

Or maybe I've got it coming because I didn't train them right when they were puppies, er, babies. I missed some crucial phase where expressing contrary opinions is weeded out. Either way, I know it's somehow my fault that my children talk back to me.

What I can't bear is that my mom has started sassing me, too.

I know that as she ages and her dementia increases that I will be doing more and more for her. Like her bills, her meals, her driving, and her laundry. I know her needs are going to be more demanding as the days go by. I am happy to embrace this season of caregiving. Honestly I am. I can overlook her confusion, her memory loss, and her endless repetition.

What I can't handle is that she is now arguing with me -- she won't submit and just do what I say, without giving me a verbal hassle.

I have to confess that I have not been the most patient, compassionate daughter this week. I have spoken sharply. I have lost my cool.

And I have had guilt. The voice, sensing my weakness, has started its refrain..."ha ha! You've got it coming for all the times you sassed her. Payback's a b-" But NO! That's not fair! I've already been punished for that crime. I've had four teenagers, and one still to come.

All my boys are bigger than me now, and I think Susannah is a lost cause. But my mom's only 4' 11", so I think I'm gonna have to alpha roll her.

Just don't call the ASPCA.