My wife got our car stuck in the snow behind our house today. I was dutifully digging it out, and she was standing behind me, watching.
Tee hee, I think to myself, I’m going to throw a shovelful of snow on her.
I have no idea how it happened. I was bent over, trying to get some especially dirty snow out from behind the tire, and in a quick movement (so that she wouldn’t see it coming), I tried to throw the snow over my shoulder, thus drenching her in dirty wet snow, thereby making me laugh heartily at my mischievious impishness.
And the snow shovel smacked me in the face.
I now have a bruise over my right eyebrow. The only one who laughed today was my wife.
I am constantly hurting myself in embarrassing ways. When I was 7, I tried to kick a football farther than my best friend, and ended up kneeing myself in the face. When I was 9, I tried to scare my brother, and got hit in the face with a lemon (it’s kind of hard to explain). There are others, so many others.
Because in that instant between when the germ of the idea was born and I decided to act on it, I thought, frankly, that if I used dirty snow, I may be able to deny it was on purpose, with hilarious results.
In my mind, the scenario played out like this.
WIFE: What the hell are you doing?
ME: (Innocently) Wha? Hunh? Shwuh?
WIFE: You threw dirty snow on me, bastard!
ME: Now honey, if I had meant to throw snow on you, would I really use such dirty snow? That would just be cruel. (Turns away, giggling like mad into coat sleeve.)
Exuent
Damn my impulsive nature! Damn even more my bad aim!
On behalf of wives everywhere who are routinely treated like “little brothers” and tormented thusly: HA, HA!! You like apples? Well, how do you like THEM apples??? Snort, snicker…
Yes, Zette, the Gods have cruelly smote me for being such a bully. And I’m being further smoten (I just invented that word) when I have to explain to my friends where I got the bruise.
(Apples, indeed! If you were here right now, I’d give you such a shoveling! :D)
