Salt and Pepper = True Love

(Written in October 2014)

As I age I realize that I am more and more a creature of habit. For instance, I have to go through my routine in the morning just to get out the door and at night it takes at least a half hour before I am truly ready for bed.salt & pepper

On Tuesday night I had gone through my routine. By the time I had gotten into bed, Toni was well into whatever she was reading on her eye ball pad kindlee thingee. As I lay there trying to get comfortable, I did what I always do and reached over to rub her shoulder and neck as I watched the evening news. Keep in mind, it was fairly dark, I can’t see well, and I was tired.

I remember thinking how sweet I was being. “Man, this is going to get me a lot of brownie points! I am being so thoughtful and considerate.” A few minutes into my cherub-like kindness, I thought I would throw a compliment out there to ice the cake. “Sweetie, did you put lotion on your shoulders? “Your skin is super soft,” all the while staring at the TV. She didn’t respond.

Curious, I looked over at her. I found it odd that she would just blatantly ignore me since I was being such a sensitive and caring, not to mention, loving, husband. To my surprise, she was not in the bed at all, but standing on her side of the bed staring at me with her “You are a complete moron” look on her face. “Ken!” she sniped. “What are you doing? That is my pillow!”

“Ummmm. Ha ha ha,” I said. I was just joking. I thought I would make you laugh because you have had a hard day and I love you so much.” I said. (I impressed myself a little with that quick witted response.) She didn’t’ buy it. As a matter of fact, she was quite offended. “Do you mean to tell me that you think I feel like a cold old piece of cotton?”

Seriously folks, how in the world do you respond to a silly question like that? What started out as a heartfelt, honest, sensitive and caring gesture had now been spun around to a capital offense on me and I had no way out. “Oh, you will pay for this one buster!” she said as she kindly laughed just enough to lure me into a sense of security. I fell asleep confident that she got the joke and bought my line/excuse.

She is a real stinker underneath all that sweetie sweet, cornbread cooking, hardworking, blonde bombshell of a skin she is wearing. The next morning, I thought I was off the hook as I went through my blurry eyed routine to get dressed. About seven steps into the routine I waddled in to get my coffee. I put a dash of salt in it to smooth it out a bit and yes, I use creamer and sugar. Don’t judge me.

I had gotten about half the cup down when I noticed it seemed oddly strong. “Hey Punkin, this coffee sure does seem strong to me. Did you notice it?” “No, not at all! Mine is fine.” She blurted out a little too confidently. I shrugged it off and drank the rest of the cup down. As I pulled the cup away on the last gulp, I noticed little black dots sticking to the inside of my cup. “Holy smokes! I put pepper in my coffee! Who in the world put the pepper shaker by the coffee pot instead of the salt?” I choked.

She didn’t hesitate as I stumbled by her in the bathroom, headed in to get my shoes. She said “I don’t know sweetie. Maybe it was that soft pillow you were rubbing on last night.” And then she buckled over laughing until the curling iron she had in her hair started to smoke. “Oh that’s rich! Really adult of you Toni! Good grief, I will have heartburn all day!” I yelled. She just laughed harder. I thought we were even…

In my morning routine I sit on the clothes hamper to put my shoes on. Frustrated, but a slave to my routine, I grabbed my shoes and a shoe horn and sat down to put my shoes on. Keep in mind; she is in the main bathroom in front of the mirror. She can look into the mirror and into the walk in closet, so she could see me. As I sat down, a sense of panic exploded into my heart as I realized the top of the laundry basket was up, but it was too late. I was already committed and considering my increased weight and elevated age, there was no way to stop my descent. The next think I knew I was in the laundry basket with my feet hanging over the side.

The crash alarmed my darling wife. “What are you doing now?” she yelled at me. “I fell in the dang laundry basket if you must know!” I said, embarrassed and trying to get out. “I can’t get out!”

About ten minutes later she caught her breath and came over and pushed me over as if that was going to make me feel better, tears running through her mascara. “Oh my God Ken, you won’t do.”

I asked, “Are we even now?” I knew in my heart she had set me up but I can’t prove it. She just grinned and said “We will see, but ain’t carma a booger?.” I still have a little heartburn and I am considering throwing all the pillows in the trash.

Once again, true story. I suppose the true stuff really is funnier, but honestly I am having a hard time keeping my sense of humor.

God bless you and all that you do this week.

Ken Dulaney

Ken Profile 6

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