And not much will change.

Here it is. Saturday afternoon. I’m doing all the typing today because my mom has a big bandage on her finger.

Gee. I wonder how that happened.

Let me explain.

Be honest with yourself. Do you ever find yourself doing the same thing over and over, the same way, and then expecting different results? Better results? Even though you don’t really change anything about your whole approach?

Well then, you’re just like my mom. Congratulations.

No. Wait. You have my sympathy.

You see, she does that all the time. It could be because she’s just full of bad habits. Or chronic, repetitive obsessions. Or maybe it’s not as negative as that.

Perhaps she’s just a Pollyanna with a pair of rose-colored glasses.* Before she does something dopey (for the seventeenth time), she rationalizes it to herself and says, “Hey, what could possibly go wrong now?”

Plenty.

Here’s what happened.

We came in from my walk and needed a snack. My mom suggested pierogies. I was good with that. I like the potato on the inside.

She fired up the oven (she likes to bake them) and took a box out of the freezer (no, they were not home-made). For the record, you know you’re going to have a really good day when the box of a dozen pierogies has thirteen or fourteen in it.

Today was not one of those days. There were only twelve.

And several of those doughy little potato pies were frozen together.

I think you see where this is going.

She took a knife and decided to pry them apart. At least it wasn’t the orange or red knife in the picture. It was the blue knife.

Now, she’s done this before. And it usually ends in some degree of bloodshed, with shouted words that burn a hole into my little, half-deaf Chihuahua eardrums.

You think she’d know better by now.

Nope.

I don’t know what it is with humans, especially ones like my mom. She keeps doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

She hasn’t learned, “If you keep on doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep on getting what you’ve always gotten.” I can’t take credit for that biscuit of wisdom. Henry Ford said it, and Tony Robbins came up with a similar version.

For example, a few years back I went to the Hunterdon County 4H and Agricultural Fair with her and my dad. After examining the quilt displays my dad wanted to check out the food vendors. I was hoping for a sausage sandwich.

Instead, when they walked by the guy selling ice cream and waffles, my mom squealed, “Ice cream and waffles! Yummy! I want some!!!”

My dad looked at her. You know the look, the kind you give someone who may have just said the stupidest thing in the world, and you’re trying to decide whether to say, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

Well, my dad said, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Ice cream always upsets your stomach. Eat that and you’ll be sick all night.”

“Breyers chocolate doesn’t make me sick,” my mom pouted.

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Guess what happened? Within the space of about half an hour she was sick. So sick that the folks at the fair office told my dad they were going to charge her rent for the Porta Potty if she didn’t come out before closing time.

Things like that happen all the time.

We always walk trails that are full of black walnut trees. Every autumn, when the walnuts fall, she complains that the forces of nature are conspiring to kill her. But she keeps on walking the same trails and acts shocked every time a walnut hits her on the head.

And it’s even worse when she steps on one of those dangerous little balls and twists her ankle. That happens a few times a month. It’s why she keeps an Ace bandage in her pocket.

So, what does all this mean for you?

If you see yourself in some of my mom’s tales of injury and woe, maybe you need to make a change in your approach to life.

The first time that cat ran up and smacked me in the face? I learned she was evil and couldn’t be trusted. I stay away from her.

The first time my mom screamed at me for peeing on the carpet, right in front of her? I learned to hide behind the lounge chair and pee. Or at least do it when she’s busy in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of Creativity Juice.

And the first time I found a biscuit in the pocket of her jeans? That taught me to always check whatever clothes she left lying on the floor. And yep, I get lucky. A lot.

Now, I’m not saying that you can’t get lucky sometimes, that a pocket that NEVER held a biscuit (like my dad’s jeans) won’t suddenly have one.

Or, that by some miracle, you won’t cut yourself with the knife (it was plastic), get sick from ice cream (it was really Tofutti**), or your hiking trail is free of black walnuts because industrious squirrels gathered them up before you had a chance to get clobbered.

But I am saying to act like a canine, with doggy smarts.

Sometimes it’s not easy, but you gotta look out for yourself. Try a different approach to whatever it is that keeps ending in bloodshed, disaster, hunger, or just plain aggravation for you.

– If someone waves a treat in front of you and then pulls it away before you get a nibble, don’t give that guy your attention. Ignore him. In fact, biting him might teach him not to tease you.

– If the cat smacks you when you try to kiss her, keep your face away from her whiskers. She’ll smack you again, have no doubt about that. Give your kisses to someone else, someone who’ll appreciate them.

– If your paw got stuck in the sidewalk grates yesterday, it’ll get stuck again today. Trust me, you didn’t grow Great Dane or Bigfoot paws overnight. Walk around the grates. You’ll be happier.

Hey, you might be just a human, but don’t you deserve to be happy? Bandage-free? And to enjoy a biscuit now and then?

* Sinatra. Count Basie. Rose-colored glasses.

** Tofutti. Do they still make that stuff?