Fire Away!

By Dee Jay Gordon

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I've recently become engaged to be married. Wait, hold your congratulations. Do you remember a few months back when I recounted the tale of my friend whose beau balked at buying her a 25 cup of water? Women applauded, men pouted. "That's not true, " the men said. "Oh, yes it is!" the women replied. Here's my own personal testimony:

Him: "Hi, Sweet, how was your day?"
Me: "It was pretty good. I went to see...
Him: "It looks like it's going to rain tonight. Did you put your Jeep top up?"
Me: "No, not yet."
Him: "Well, you better get it done. So how was your day?"
Me: "I had a great meeting with...
Him: "Hey, you know what happened to me today? I talked to my buddy Kenny and he said that he and his wife.....

Get the picture? Now, when we first started dating, this man hung on my every word. He adored me, and listened to me when I was happy, or sad, or grumpy. Now I can't get a word in edgewise! He used to come over and cut my grass, wax my Jeep, fix my light socket, whatever. Now I get this:

Him: "I'll come over and cut the grass."
Me: "You don't have to do that. I can get it."
Him: "No, I'll do it. I can get it tomorrow."
Me: "You don't have to, though."
Him: "But I will."

A week later, do you think that grass has been cut? Ha! So I proceed to cut the grass, and he fusses at me! "Why did you do that? I said I'd cut the grass!" Well, yeah, but in the meantime I have Axl Rose in my yard singing "Welcome To The Jungle." So this week, he promises he will cut the grass. So I wait. And he calls, and says "Hey Sweet, I'll be over at 6:00 to cut the grass and in return you have to cook me a delicious meal!" Fair enough, deal. So 6:00 rolls around and no Greg. The clock strikes 7:00 and still no Greg. Finally at 8:45 I get a call from him, "I'm on my way over. Do you want me to pick anything up?" Many smart remarks, including cuss words, are running through my mind at this point about what precisely I'd like him to pick up.

And he can't figure out why this irritates me. Now, I'm not new to this marriage, or sorta-marriage, thing. I was married for nine years to my children's father. I guess I'd just forgotten how this thing works. Greg has reminded me. He calls me in to watch a particular program on TV, then, when I start getting interested, he channel surfs. I'm cooking dinner, he calls me in to see what the kittens are doing. I come look, we coo a bit, then he turns to me and says, "When's dinner going to be ready? "He says, "Sweet, where are my purple sleep-shorts?" He talks to me when I'm on the phone with a friend, or worse, he talks to the friend through me. He looks over my shoulder while I'm reading and says, "Whatcha reading?" When I'm grouchy, he asks me, "Is it your time of the month?" Aaaarrrrgh!

Why do I keep him? The same reason any woman keeps an annoying man around. He dances with me - sometimes, for no reason, he'll twirl me around the livingroom. He sends flowers - big bouquets of roses with the thorns removed, from the florist, not the ones from the Quickie Mart. He has a great sense of humor - he can tease me out of a bad mood. He's a great father to my children - takes my son out to shoot model rockets and takes my daughter to the mall. He has big brown puppy dog eyes - they look like melted Hershey bars. He rides a Harley and doesn't get too upset when I call my helmet a "hat." And he has wonderful parents, my future in-laws, that I thank God for every night, because they raised the beautiful man who will be my husband. Except the nights I'm irritated with him.

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