I’m solving the world’s problems
I am working very hard on solving the world’s problems when my too-kind-and-loving wife happens by, carrying a load of wash or something like that.
To her, it appears that I am sitting on my big overstuffed chair drooling with my eyes shut and snoring. She shakes me to see if I am dead. Of course I jump a little.
She knits her brow and asks, “What are you doing? It’s only 10 a.m.”
Well, it seems pretty obvious to me that I am hard at work here, and I resent her accusational attitude with her question. But I let all that slide as I read that stupid love language book.
I bet Michelangelo’s wife never asked when he was lying down on scaffolding 44 feet in the air painting the Sistine Chapel, “Hey, what are you doing up there?” or offering words of advice like, “I thought we agreed on a nice beige color. I just don’t think your doodling is going to be what they want. Really? A nice flat beige almost always has better staying power with various décor.”
She hands me a dust rag and says why don’t you use this and continues on her way to the laundry room or wherever she takes the clothes to get them clean.
I think, “good idea,” so I use the dust rag as a coaster for my Pepsi, since the real coasters are just out of my reach when I am reclined in my big overstuffed chair and would require that I do a crunch and the only crunch I am into is Munch Crunch.
I was very near a breakthrough on some of the tough problems of this world when my concentration was interrupted. Now, my too-kind-and-loving wife is pushing a vacuum or floor buffer. It makes a lot of whirring noise and scares the cat and me.
“Hey, can you hand me those Almond M&Ms on the counter right there?” I smile because my mother used to tell me if you smile you are more likely to get what you want.
She responds, “Sure!! I’m not doing anything. Anything else I can get for you?”
Now you know why I call her my too-kind-and-loving wife. What a woman! Really! I don’t deserve her. She must really think I have potential.
I am about to say, “I could really use a refill and more ice for my Pepsi, but even though her words are sweet, her knitted brow and tone makes something deep inside my Cerebellum where our instincts for survival are strongly embedded flash “danger is near.”
So, I just smile, “No thanks, you’ve done enough. Oh, by the way I think I left my dirty socks in the hall. Well, technically one in the hall and one in the piano room.” I try to be helpful when I can.
Since the whirring noise machine is going to start up and ruin my concentration, I decide I better go out to my shop and see if there is something I can do.
When we first got married, we decided that we would split some of the jobs required to make a house a home. For example, some of my jobs are to wait for the car to need an oil change, then drive it down to the shop and have the mechanic get that done. I also have to get up and check out noises at night.
Fortunately, I don’t hear so well so when she hits me in the middle of the night with her elbow, “What was that? I heard a noise. I definitely heard a noise. Sounded like a window being opened.”
I can explain any noise away by saying, “I am sure it was the neighbors. They have kids. You know that Cooper is always up to something. I’ll check it in the morning.”
I am kind of tired from working in the shop, so I come into the house and feel like we are making good progress now that the floor is vacuumed and the wash is done, so I feel like watching the Olympics which would be a good way to show my support for America.
I grab a Pepsi and Almond M&Ms, settle into my big overstuffed chair so I can really get behind Team USA and do my part.