We were at World Market last night and toward the front of the store near the check out lanes they had small containers of facial tissue that had been printed to look like money. The son picked up on the fact that you would be looking like you were using a $20 bill to blow your nose and said, “Look Dad, you tell us that we do this all the time!” We had a good laugh and it is true, I do say things like that (insinuating that the kids have a secret agenda to rid me of all my wealth). I am quite frugal and the kids know this. The fact that we were in line buying World Market’s in store Electric Reindeer brand wine on super close out ($2.39 a bottle) gave me no room to defend myself (we have the lowest of expectations for this wine but we did buy 4 bottles as there was another 20% discount off of the 50% discount if you bought 4 or more bottles).
Last night as the wife and I were settling into our bed she (as she does most nights) tried to… (hmmm, how can I put this delicately) stick parts of her personage that were cold into parts of my personage that were warm (that about sums it up and those of you who have shared a bed with anyone for any length of time will know exactly what I am talking about here). I (of course) resisted. This reminds me a a cartoon that I saw once. In it you were looking from the hallway through a bedroom door into the bedroom where a man was sitting up in bed reading a magazine. On the left of the cartoon window there was a woman coming down the hallway in her bathrobe and her feet were encased in two large blocks of ice. The caption underneath read “Why women breed”. This (as some of you men can testify) is not too far from the truth.
I have tried to use logic with the wife some nights when the enemy soldiers (her ice cold feet) are invading my fort of warmth but logic is not something that works with this particular enemy. I have explained to her that there is a couch in the other room and (although it is not as comfortable) it is something to be preferred compared to the current situation. She simply tells me that I am not allowed to leave the bed (she has a habit of making up rules for these negotiations as suits her immediate needs). I have offered to shove poor Oreo (our shih-poo) under the covers as a possible compromise (Oreo perks up and is happy to hear his name being mentioned {if he only knew why]). That offer, too, is declined. I try to explain to her what the word compromise actually means (you know, when two parties agree to be moved from their original position for the betterment of all involved). She is well aware of the definition but remains steadfast. Last night I took off the gloves and called her a Socialist.
Replacing wealth with heat, I tried to paint her as the 99% and me as the 1%. I own almost all the heat wealth in the world that is our bed. I explained that her toes (the poor masses) are basically coming at me with pitchforks and chanting some mantra (“Free the Heat” or maybe “Let Us Redistribute the Cold”). I painted a picture of the small toes carrying signs with pithy sayings on them (“Reheat the Feet” or “Make us Flush and We will Hush”). I, of course, am the billionaire that owns 99% of the heat wealth and do not understand why I should suffer simply because of her body’s inability to produce this much desired commodity. There are plenty of other means of gaining heat wealth (the aforementioned small dog, socks, heating pads, etc) that I have paid for (or will happily pay for) if needed. All these methods will produce the desired end results with much less suffering having to be endured on my part (you know, compromise). She is unmoved. It is as if she wants, nay needs me to suffer simply because I am heat wealthy. I need to be punished for my good fortune. Yes, she is indeed a Socialist here in this scenario.
So, 2 minutes after this discussion (and you might have guessed this), I am getting the shock of my life with the invading ice warriors creeping into my “territory” taking no prisoners and having no mercy. The look of pleasure on the wife’s face suggested she had absolutely no pity on the native inhabitants of said invaded region. In about 5 minutes, all the heat wealth had been redistributed and the masses are appeased and retreat back from whence that came no doubt beginning preparation for tomorrow’s invasion while I huddle in the fetal position desperately trying to regain my lost assets.
I need a new plan for this nightly battle but after almost 15 years of marriage I am beginning to think that this war cannot be won.
Jon
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