Wednesday, December 8, 2010


My wife's plaintive plea is "Don't write about me! Don't write that I laundered your cell phone!" My wife, Debbie is adamant about me not sharing information about her in my books. She doesn't want me to write about the time she flushed a kitchen dish towel down the toilet. I spent four hours with a closet auger, in order to extract it from the plumbing. The very next day, she sheepishly informed me that she had done it again! I muttered something to myself, slammed my truck into gear, and off to the rental shop I went once again, in order to get my extraction tool. This is why women have husbands. We help them do magical "man-type things" to extricate them from "female-type tragedies". Men are worse than women. We drink, gamble and fight. We hurt feelings with our gruffness, and burp and fart at social gatherings. All this bad behavior is in our natures. I think I got the better part of the deal in my marriage to my sweet, Debbie. I'm sorry I yelled at her, for washing my cell phone. The phone is only a thing. It can be replaced. Debbie, on the other hand, is irreplacable. I don't want to turn her off, or ignore her messages to me. Her messages are always about faithfullness and love. I hope she likes this little story. I hope she doesn't kill me! This story is for you, honey.

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