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"WHAT?!?!? WHAT DID YOU SAY?" she hissed, furiously across the kitchen/diningroom/den/breakfast room that is the first floor of her townhome.
"WHY ARE YOU NOT HELPING ME CLEAN UP??!?! AND NOT ONLY THAT, DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST ASK ME TO GO GET SOMETHING FOR YOU!?!?" she choked through a throat constricted in fury.
"A R E Y O U K I D D I N G M E? !?!?!?"*
I rumpled down into the couch a bit more and peered out over the top of my blackberry for the kitchen-appliance-missile I expected to see hurtle across the space towards my tender noggin at any moment.
Sorry. sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. sorry sorry.
sorry sorry sorry....
sorry.
I murmured from down in the couch.
"I just sometimes tune out. You know that. I didn't realize you were cleaning up the kitchen."
THERE ARE ONLY TWO PEOPLE HERE AND WE'RE IN THE SAME ROOM!! HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO 'TUNE ME OUT'?"
"WE SHOULD HAVE YOU STUDIED BY NASA."
"Well, I hardly think that kind of ugly talk is appropriate" I said, adopting an injured tone for my initial manouvers. "I just didn't realize what was going on is all."
"Anyway, technically, you're in the kitchen and I'm in the den. See?" I said waving my feet around on the couch, "Ha!! Invisible kitchen wall. See?!"
Then, I made the key strategic error that cost me not only the battle, but also the entire war, a real casket, and appropriate embalming.
I said: "Well, why didn't you just ask me to help?"
And that, dear friends, touched off Vesuvius.
When the smoke cleared I was frantically casting about the kitchen for something to clean, or at least a few cups to bang together, and my lovely assistant was nowhere to be seen.
The next evening as I recounted the story to Dad over dinner, Tyler chimed in periodically with key facts that I managed to omit, then said (to Dad) "I know you know better than that?!"
Dad, who seemed very pleased at my costly foible, responded (to Tyler) "well, why didn't you just ask him to help!" and my heart leapt as I thought "FINALLY!!! VINDICATED!!! VICTORY AT LAST!!! SAVED BY SUPERIOR EXPERIENCE, AGE, AND WISDOM!!""
.....until Dad finished with "...because everybody knows he's retarded."
Once again, we find our hero galloping boldly across the sunlit plain.....dead in the saddle with one lone arrow in his back.
*I have been instructed to point out that no tempers were "lost" in the making of this scene. Duly noted.
(.....but I can think of at least one temper that was found.... hrhrhrh)
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2 comments:
In order to fully understand, I would like to know what was cooked that made the kitchen messy.
Oh, this is so timely for me to read TODAY, I saw Sarah Palin defending Rush Limbaugh who used the term "retarded" with irony to make a point, and here it comes applied to you!
I love this story. I have had this same situation with girlfriends on beach trips for a week with six kids under 10. Some of us are more OCD than others and tend to jump on things faster. When they do, some kind of resentment towards the others who did not jump on it occurs. I don't know. But I have been you and Tyler both in different situations. The one who was not quick enough and the one who jumped on it.
Whaddayoudo?
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