The Cat Didn’t Get My Tongue

At the end of Summer '09, DW purchased two pool chair floats. Since the season was over, I left them in the boxes unassembled.

One day in early June this year, when the pool water was warm enough to swim, the SD said, Joe(y), I’m getting into the pool so “we” need to assemble those chair floats. As I’ve mentioned before, when W says “we” she means Joe(y).

For various reasons, W and I do not work well together on projects that require hands-on cooperation. So it was with great trepidation that I said okay Dwal’n, I’ll bring out the boxes and tools.

I unboxed the first chair and read the directions. I always read the directions - W never does. Watching me read the assembly directions infuriated the DW to no end. She was tapping her fingernails and looking all POed the entire time.

Nevertheless, one would think that this task is a reasonably straight forward and easy thing to accomplish. After all, there are only 7 parts plus 8 screws per chair and the only tool needed is a Phillips screwdriver.

No way, buck-a-roo! It took over an hour to put the two chairs together. It’s not that the assembly was complicated or hard to understand, rather, it was awkward to hold the parts in the correct position as the screws were attached. Without a doubt, I make no claim to be nearly as good a craftsman as Tim Allen from the old Home Improvement TV show.

When this massive assembly task was finally completed, W jumped into the pool and reclined on a floating chair. I was sitting at the patio table sipping a glass of Chardonnay.

It was a beautiful, tranquil, sunny, Midwest day. The hoopla of the “construction project” now faded into history. After a long period of silence and my second glass of wine, I said: W, you are still one of the most beautiful women that I know.

Suddenly, with “very intense eyes” -- sooooooooooo, looks matter more than quality to you and you don’t think of me as a high caliber person?

Whoa!!! I sure didn’t expect that come-back. If you’ve ever seen a woman go from happy-face to screaming-face then you know my pain. I thought to myself, did I marry Miss Heckle and Miss Hyde? Have I committed bigamy?

Back-stepping -- Well, sugar, that’s not what I meant…..

Listen, Joe(y). It’s either A or B. Which is it?

Dwal’n, it’s neither. I’m a lucky man because I’m married to both a quality woman and a beautiful, hot sexy assed baby-doll thang.

With raised voice: Do not give me BS, Joe(y)!

At this point, I looked around and noticed that neighbors on 3-sides of the back yard had come outside to sit. I guess they found the Devil and I more entreating than Jerry Springer. Seeing that the neighbors had settled-in for a good show, I turned towards the SD and, Ka-rist -- now, I’m in the direct beam of an intense laser-eyed stare.

After a very-long silence: Bay-beee?

Yes, Joe(y)!

I’m sorry for upsetting you. When you are ready you should go shopping and purchase those expensive diamond earrings that you like.

Okay, Joe(y). In a while, I’ll shower and go to the Mall to get the earrings plus a bracelet and the Michael Kors Handbag that I like.

Great, Dawl’n. No doubt the high caliber person that you are will bring out the best in the earrings, bracelet and handbag.

A degree in Marital Education is a long, painful and expensive undertaking. I don’t expect to graduate Cum Laude and will likely be in the po-house PDQ. I should learn to be quiet or look for a surgeon that will remove my tongue because the Cat didn’t.