Sharing
I like shared moments as well as anybody, but I don’t always know when one is coming my way. Last week I missed a rather minor one, and I should’ve seen it coming.
I was in the kitchen looking out at the backyard, convincing myself that it didn’t need mowing. My wife was in the living room watching the news and called to me, “Honey, c’mere, take a look at this.”
Since TV news items are short, I thought it would end before I got to the living room, “Won’t it be over by the time I get there?” I shouted.
There was a long pause, then, “I don’t know, Sweetheart,” she replied, “I don’t write the news.”
I thought maybe I should’ve just gone in, but it was too late. I mistook her beckoning to be more of an ‘I-think-you-might-be-interested,' but hindsight told me it was a ‘you-gotta-see-this!' My window of opportunity not only closed, it slammed glass-rattling shut. There was little else to do but to play this out as best I could.
“Sorry, Honey,” I yelled softly, “You can tell me what happened.”
“It’s audio and visual, Sweetheart,” she shot back, “You know my sketching is not that great.”
It’s amazing how the word ‘Sweetheart’ can be as soothing as a warm breeze or as biting as a blizzard.
My memory, with no help from me, began combing those debris ridden areas where dormant neurons held similar slights. I’m sure that her memory was dredging the same locales. We’ve been together for many years, and I’ve always felt, on these occasions, it was unfair of her to review each and every slight.
I heard the weather on. Long gone was the news item she had thought I’d find interesting.
“So, what was it all about?” I asked while still in the kitchen.
No answer.
I tried again, this time for any kind of response, “What’s the weather look like, Honey?”
Other than the squealing sounds of a Kix commercial, nothing. Something told me she was adding up slights. The weather came back on--Sunny? Little did they know. I walked into the living room and found her leafing through a magazine -- each page snapping as she leafed. I sat staring at the TV, as though it would give me some clue to what her news item was all about. She continued whipping pages, blocking out some of the TV audio: “The gross national SNAP is only slightly SNAP this month, up SNAP SNAP percent.”
“So c’mon, what was on the news?” I asked, “I couldn’t come right away. I was checking the leaky faucet.” I lied.
She looked up pretending she had just become aware of my presence, “Ah, you found the living room. See? It wasn’t that difficult was it?”
Well, I thought, at least she’s talking. Now if I can only get her to talk about the news item, we could put this little episode behind us.
“Was it funny?” I asked.
“What was funny?” She asked.
“The news, the news.”
Still snapping, she replied, “Something about a huge asteroid heading our way. If you’re gonna fix the leak you got about ten minutes.”
I walked back to the kitchen and out the back door. The mower started with just one pull.
- END -
Published in America West Magazine (Copyrighted)
I was in the kitchen looking out at the backyard, convincing myself that it didn’t need mowing. My wife was in the living room watching the news and called to me, “Honey, c’mere, take a look at this.”
Since TV news items are short, I thought it would end before I got to the living room, “Won’t it be over by the time I get there?” I shouted.
There was a long pause, then, “I don’t know, Sweetheart,” she replied, “I don’t write the news.”
I thought maybe I should’ve just gone in, but it was too late. I mistook her beckoning to be more of an ‘I-think-you-might-be-interested,' but hindsight told me it was a ‘you-gotta-see-this!' My window of opportunity not only closed, it slammed glass-rattling shut. There was little else to do but to play this out as best I could.
“Sorry, Honey,” I yelled softly, “You can tell me what happened.”
“It’s audio and visual, Sweetheart,” she shot back, “You know my sketching is not that great.”
It’s amazing how the word ‘Sweetheart’ can be as soothing as a warm breeze or as biting as a blizzard.
My memory, with no help from me, began combing those debris ridden areas where dormant neurons held similar slights. I’m sure that her memory was dredging the same locales. We’ve been together for many years, and I’ve always felt, on these occasions, it was unfair of her to review each and every slight.
I heard the weather on. Long gone was the news item she had thought I’d find interesting.
“So, what was it all about?” I asked while still in the kitchen.
No answer.
I tried again, this time for any kind of response, “What’s the weather look like, Honey?”
Other than the squealing sounds of a Kix commercial, nothing. Something told me she was adding up slights. The weather came back on--Sunny? Little did they know. I walked into the living room and found her leafing through a magazine -- each page snapping as she leafed. I sat staring at the TV, as though it would give me some clue to what her news item was all about. She continued whipping pages, blocking out some of the TV audio: “The gross national SNAP is only slightly SNAP this month, up SNAP SNAP percent.”
“So c’mon, what was on the news?” I asked, “I couldn’t come right away. I was checking the leaky faucet.” I lied.
She looked up pretending she had just become aware of my presence, “Ah, you found the living room. See? It wasn’t that difficult was it?”
Well, I thought, at least she’s talking. Now if I can only get her to talk about the news item, we could put this little episode behind us.
“Was it funny?” I asked.
“What was funny?” She asked.
“The news, the news.”
Still snapping, she replied, “Something about a huge asteroid heading our way. If you’re gonna fix the leak you got about ten minutes.”
I walked back to the kitchen and out the back door. The mower started with just one pull.
- END -
Published in America West Magazine (Copyrighted)
posted by rich at 2:42 AM
2 Comments:
Rich, it's been ages, I'm ashamed to say, since I moseyed over here to take a look at your site. You have been honing your craft, my friend. Your blogs are really quite wonderful little gems of the everyday, and I'm kicking myself for not having done something similar. Bravo for you.
By the way, there's nothing more irritating than when you ask your spouse to come see something you just know they'd find interesting, only to have them shrug it off. It's not the show you're rejecting; it's the wife. At least, that's what it feels like to us wimmins. So if you know what's good for ya, buddy, get your rear into that TV room pronto next time she calls. She's trying to give you a gift.
Keep up the good work....at least until you get over to the forum so we can spew some diet coke out our noses.
That's kind of you, Cat.
I've all but abandoned my other website. Skonk had built it for me some two years ago. It's a nicely designed site, but I can't cope with the html needed to add more stories.
With a blog all you need to do is type away.
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