The Misses

I have not written much in this blog this summer; been busy with golf, outdoors stuff, reading and hanging out with the Lovely Sharon. For a good part of the year, the Lovely Sharon and I live in different cities. During such time I live in Salt Lake and she lives in Palm Desert. Although I visit Palm Desert often when she is there, we do in fact live in two different cities for more than half the year. I can’t tell you how nice it is in the summer time when we are both living in the same city to be able to do the little things. It is so nice for one of us to be able to say, “let’s watch TV together, let’s go to Home Depot, let’s go to the library”. It is nice to come home from work or golf and see her sitting on the porch or tending to the flowers in the yard.

It is sooooo nice (please read sarcasm in the word “sooooo”) when she comes into the Bud Cave for inspection and analysis of the lack of order of my mortal existence. If I am in the Bud Cave on my computer or sitting in my leather chair watching TV or reading, she will walk in and look around. Her look around is not a casual glance around the Bud Cave, it is more like the look of a Marine Colonel on the beaches of Normandy at the D Day invasion of France during World War II. She has that look in her eye where she trying to see something that may or may not be there. While the Colonel may say “Is that the enemy over there?” “Is that a machine gun sniper nest?” I hear comments from the Lovely Sharon like “Why do you have two pairs of shoes by the couch”? “Why do you have so many books stacked up on the floor”? “I can write my name in the dust on your coffee table”. Normally I either get irritated by her observations concerning the general appearance of the Bud Cave or I pretend I can’t hear her. The “pretending I can’t hear her” approach does not work that well because she is standing within six feet from me when she is making her comments.

Thursday night I figured out a new approach to her comments. I played golf in my regular Thursday men’s game. When I arrived home the Lovely Sharon was watching a replay of the PGA Championship on TV. She had played in a women’s golf tournament early in the day and was just relaxing on the couch. I said hello, we embraced, a peck on the lips and I walked down to the Bud Cave to check email and relax. I suppose I was too quiet because after awhile she wondered what I was doing and she came down to the Bud Cave to see what trouble I was causing. She looked at the lovely wooden trash can that I have under my desk. Apparently, I had missed a couple of times when I had attempted to toss papers, water bottle tops and other sundry items into the trash can. She picked up the odd stray items and said something like “why don’t you pick up the misses off the floor and put them in the can”. Instead of pretending I didn’t hear her or instead of getting irritated, I decided to agree with her. Our conversation went something like this:

The Lovely Sharon: “Why don’t you pick up the misses off the floor and put them in the can?”

Me: “Yeah, why don’t I pick the misses off the floor and put them in the can”.

The Lovely Sharon: “It does not take that much effort to bend down and pick em’ up and put them in the can”.

Me: “You are right, it does not take that much effort to bend down and pick em’ up and put them in the can”.

The Lovely Sharon: “If you are not gonna put all of the trash in the can why even have a can?

Me. “You are right, if I am not gonna put all of the trash in the can, why even have a can”?

The Lovely Sharon: “Why don’t you get rid of the can and just build a pile of trash under your desk”?

Me: “You are right, why don’t I get rid of the can and just build a pile of trash under my desk”.

Although I was very much enjoying this wonderful spousal give and take dialogue, the kind of dialogue you could never have with a woman if you were merely dating, I could see that the Lovely Sharon was not getting the same pleasure from our tete a tete. She stopped talking and rolled her eyes in what seem to be a look of defeatism and silently left the Bud Cave for greener pastures. I felt good. I was able to protect the sanctity of the Bud Cave without arguing or pretending I didn’t hear her. It was simple, just agree with her. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

Later that evening I approached her while she was sitting in the family room. I said, “It would be nice if you could pick up my laundry from the cleaners tomorrow while I am at work.” After I uttered these words, she looked at me; first with a look of incredulity and then with a look like a light bulb just went on in her head. She responded with “Yes it would be nice if I could pick up your laundry from the cleaners tomorrow”. She then turned back to watching the TV.

Well, I suppose my new approach of protecting the sanctity of the Bud Cave was not as effecive as I had initially thought. It came right back to bite me in the derriere. Next time I toss something in the Bud Cave trash can, I will make certain it ends up in the can.