Saturday, December 29, 2012

Let It Snow ... Let It Snow ... Let It Snow (You Sadist!)

Okay, I know it's not like blizzard condition snow,
but still, it's more than we usually get in KY.
My Ridgeline needed washing anyway.

I awoke in my recliner this morning as my wife hit my foot on purpose with her knee.

No, she doesn't think I know she's a vindictive bi...., er, wonderful woman.  Yet, I know she was upset seeing me sleeping there as she was preparing to go to work.   So, purposely, under the guise of inadvertently, she hit my foot extending beyond the foot rest of the recliner with her knee.  Of course, you already knew that since I mentioned it in the first sentence.  That is, unless you didn't read the first sentence.  Of course, if you didn't read the first, why would you be reading this one?

Anyway, after she woke me up, I arose, went to the window, and saw exactly what I expected.  I had an inkling what might be there, having only gone to sleep in the recliner a few hours before.  In fact, I purposely went to sleep in the recliner (as discussed in sentence one and paragraph one, too) so that my wife's vindictiveness would again show itself, and would wake me for a purpose.  

I almost feel like I'm double talking myself.

Only a few hours before, I had looked out the window to see our first snow of the year falling.  (Did you ever wonder why they say it's "falling?"   Have you ever seen it come out of the ground and rise up into the sky?)   Anyway, I'd glanced over to her car to see it was beginning to get covered in the frozen white droppings of angel spit.   (I used to have an aunt call it that.  It had a much greater affect to keeping us youngsters from eating snow than simply calling it "yellow" snow did.)

I figured if I slept in the recliner, my wife, as dependable as she is, would be aggravated that it had snowed and that she would have to get her feet wet walking to the car, and then having to scrap the snow off of it, and then wake me up so that she could share her anger and start my day off wonderfully.

That's just my wife!  Not knocking her ... just being honest.  She can be a true bi ....  er, wonderful woman at times.   She just likes others to "share her pain."    I know it's better to give than receive, but she carries it one step too far.

"So, she's at it again, huh?  
I'm glad she's your wife and not mine!"
Well, I knew that I was going to surprise her and go out, shovel the walk, and scrape the snow off of her car for her, but she didn't.   She continued to huff and puff around the house, shutting draws with the force of a jet thruster and doors with all the stealth of a wild bucking bull in heat!

As I was getting out of the recliner, Faletame stopped his snoring and said, "She's at it again, huh?"

"Yeah, she is.  You know how she likes to hide her feelings."

Gabriela barely opened her eyes and asked, "Are you two talking about me again?  You know you don't want to get me all demonized at you!"

"Look, it's not even light yet!  It's still dark!
A girl needs her beauty sleep!
Keep her QUIET!"
"Go back to sleep, girl.  We're discussing the true Bi...., er, wonderful woman of the house."

"Oh, her.  Yeah, she woke me up with all that drawer and door banging, too.  You'd think you humans could control your feelings a little better than that."  she yawned.

Faletame joined in, "Damn straight!  She's about a calm as a hurricane meeting a tornado and having a litter of earthquakes!"

"Hey, that 's my wife you two are talking about.  How'd you like me to give you no name brand cat food tonight instead of Little Friskies?"

Faletame's eyes opened up wide, his ears popped up and back, and he started backtracking, "C'mon Rich!  You know I was only kidding!  You guys are the best!  I couldn't ask for better owners!"

You had to be there.  

"Please, Rich ... I'll be good!  Anything to keep from
getting no name brand cat food.  You know ... it's
like, my kingdom for Little Friskies!"
I shook my head and chuckled as I went to the closet and grabbed my coat and gloves.  Oh yeah, gotta get off these slippers and put on some shoes.  What the hell was I thinking anyway?

Finally, the task was done.  Her car was cleaned off of snow, all doors checked and found not to be frozen shut, and the walk cleared to keep her feet dry.   Sometimes, I surprise myself.

When I walked back in the house, things were somewhat different in tone.  Both cats were snoring, coffee was brewing, and my wife actually had a smile on her face.  

But, being her, she never apologized.  

See, my wife lives by the "Love Story" philosophy that "being in love means never having to say you're sorry."   At least that's what she says.

I think her philosophy is actually, "Be a big enough Bi..., er, wonderful woman and you'll always get your way!"

It seems to be working.

"So sorry you had to go to work so early today!
Be safe ... and come home in a better mood!"