Charlie and me
Sep 14, 2011 | 1785 views | 0 0 comments | 7 7 recommendations | email to a friend | print
MY CAVE, MY VIEW

My too kind and loving wife and I are driving along and I am singing to my Hits of the ‘70s when all of sudden a Subaru with a CoExist sticker cuts me off. 

I wave at her with one finger and mutter a couple of four letter words that I am not allowed to use around my too kind and loving wife.  She has threatened to put me in a time-out if I insist on articulating my dismay with such passion and conviction. 

Profanity is an art form when properly practiced by pirates and my sister-in-law; but there are people, like my too kind and loving wife, that should never attempt to use it.  I think I have heard her swear one time and it caused me to laugh so hysterically that I pulled a muscle.

The CoExist Lady keeps driving, oblivious to her lack of communication skills. Her dog is sticking his nose out of the passenger-side window and he seems to be laughing at me, which makes me so mad that I am tempted to cut her off so she can read my sticker, “Drive a hybrid, I need the gas!” 

Sometimes people think that I am mature, but I am not.  And the fact that I am really tempted to drive up past her just to cut her off makes me think that my too kind and loving wife may be right when she tells others that she will be happy when Charlie Sheen and I grow up and start acting like an adult. 

Inside my “…big beautiful warlock brain” I think, “You’re either in my corner, or you’re with the trolls.”  Which doesn’t make much sense, but you’re not inside my “warlock” brain where it does make sense.

After ten minutes of my too kind and loving wife not saying anything, which may be a record, I have this feeling that I am in trouble. 

I don’t know for sure; but the hair on the back of my neck is tickling so I am thinking there is a serial killer in my back seat or my too kind and loving wife is mad at me.

I start out, “Okay, so what’s wrong?”  My too kind and loving wife shortly replies, “Nothing!”  My first impulse is to say, “Great.” and go back to singing. 

I have to smash every impulse to just turn the stereo back up. After all, she said “Nothing!”  Right? 

Wrong!  It is the way she said “nothing” that makes me think that “nothing” actually meant “something”.

I try to sound open minded and warm, “No, really.  What’s the matter?  I can tell something is bothering you.” With the voice of chagrin, “Nothing!!” 

Now I know “something” is wrong.  Even though she said “nothing”.  What she really meant is “something”.  But, hey, she said “nothing” so technically, I shouldn’t worry, right? 

Wrong!  If I turn the stereo up now, I might as well figure out if the new couch is as comfortable as my old one. 

I feel like a Code Talker, “nothing” means “something”, “yes” means “no”, “I love you” means “I want to chop your body up into a thousand pieces and bury you in the back yard”. 

I don’t know why this happens.  Why can’t women just say what they are thinking?  Of course, if I figure that out, I could write a book, “Code Talker Handbook for Women”.

I continue, “Oh... come on, tell me what’s wrong.”  She folds her arms and pretends she is looking out the side window and hisses “Well if I have to tell you... apparently you are as clueless as you look.”

I want to shout “Hallelujah!  Yes!  Absolutely, I am just as clueless as I look...now please just tell me what I did.” 

But instead I try to remember all the training I have had in active listening, and meekly squeak out, “Was it something I did?  Come on tell me, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing!”  Then I hear under her breath, “I’m married to an idiot...and a MAN.”  I think to myself, no use being redundant, use “idiot” or “man”, but not both in the same sentence. 

In my highly efficient warlock brain, I chuckle at my quick wit and want to offer up this gem, but decide this may not be the best time because my humor might go unappreciated.

Finally I exclaim, “You know that troll in the Subaru just about killed us all! I was merely signing for her to have a pleasant day.” 

Then I exclaim, “I didn’t do nothing!”  Which technically is a double negative; saying “I did not do nothing”, actually means “I did do something.” 

I doubt she will catch this in the heat of the moment but my warlock brain is working at new levels because of the Mountain Dew.

I try harder, “Really, you can tell me what I did.  Pleeeasssse tell me.”
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