I See Dead People
/After springing new bedroom furniture and a depleted bank balance on my unsuspecting husband, I had some making up to do. I mean it's not every weekend a man travels great distances to come home in the middle of the night to find two strange men in his bedroom with his wife.
Even if they were just putting together a bed and not bouncing on it.
It wouldn't have been so bad if Boo had arrived home healthy. But the truth of it was, Boo was very ill. Throat abscesses tend to make one feel like shit, or so I'm told. Combined with the lack of sleep from our late night delivery, and you have the makings of one very guilt ridden wife.
So what does a wife do to make it up to her man and show him the deep and abiding love she holds for him when he's too sick to enjoy some special quality time with his naked wife?
Does she get up in the morning allowing him to sleep in while she takes care of his offspring?
She should have. But in my defense, I was reaaaaallly tired. And the kids were excited to see him. Really. So, I may have elbowed his sick and exhausted ass out of bed so he could see the kids on the bus Friday morning. It was done with love.
Does she sit back and ignore the fact all he wants to do is decompress, play some video games and get a good neck rub?
Somewhere out there, I'm sure there is a wife like that. But it's not me. No, instead I drug his sorry butt out of the house to go shopping. And then nagged at him the entire way about how he drives like a little old man.
What can I say? I'm prized wife material. It's a freaking wonder he hasn't traded me in for a newer, better trained model.
But guilt eventually got the better of me as I watched my sick husband struggle through the day, and I wracked my brain about how I could make him feel my undying love for him. Without having to shave my legs or share his nasty sick germs. I mean, love and affection only stretch so far, people.
Instead of trotting him out for the variety of social activities I had planned with family and friends for his weekend home, I cancelled everything and surprised him with a few rented movies.
Generally, I refuse to rent movies. Not because I don't enjoy watching movies at home, but because of the creepy guy who works at the local video store. Last time I went in to rent a movie to entertain the kids I had to endure a long diatribe about political intrigue and government hypocrisy while the guy picked his nose and spoke to my boobs. Just when I thought I could make my escape, he cornered me and asked if I had any interest in the adult movie section.
Funny how he remains single.
But because of my extremeguilt affection for my husband, I braved the creepy dude and thoughtfully chose movies that my husband might enjoy. The things I do for my man.
Boo and I have extremely different movie tastes. He likes shoot 'em up action movies and badly produced comedies. I prefer documentaries and the odd chick flick. After wandering the aisles, I fought my selfish impulses and picked movies strictly for Boo. A football flick to play to his sport enthusiast side, a horror flick so I could cuddle up with him and let him play the big strong man, and a cheesy comedy that would certainly cause my brains to seep out of my ears but induce hearty laughter in my man.
Feeling quite proud of myself, I braved the creepy dude, kept my arms folded over my chest and made a beeline to my car. It was going to be a good night, I told myself.
Boo was playing video games with the kids when I got home, so I walked behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. "I rented movies for you," I told him as I dug my fingers into the knots in his muscles.
"British movies and movies with subtitles will not make up for breaking the hundred dollar rule," he whimpered as I pushed harder into his muscles.
"No, but will a comedy, a horror flick and a football movie gain me any points?" I countered sweetly.
He stopped playing video games, looked at me and tried to gauge whether I was pulling his leg. I leaned over and kissed him and pointed to the movies sitting on the coffee table.
"Well, it'll help," he said as he stood up to go see if I was playing a cruel trick on him. Oh ye, of little faith, I thought to myself. It was like watching a child unwrap a present when he thumbed through the titles and saw that I was not yanking his chain.
He looked at me and all he said was "I'll be damned." I must remember to do nice things for him more often. He's becoming quite the skeptic.
After supper, the four of us gathered around to watch the football flick. It was supposed to be one of those cheesy inspirational movies, the kind I don't mind the kids watching with us before bed. It was quality bonding time for the Rednecks.
Except the cheesy football flick turned into a weeper about death and learning how to cope with it's messy aftermath. Instead of inspiring our family with it's moral, it reminded all four of us what we had been through and just how shattered our lives became after one October night. Boo and I ended up having a fairly serious talk with the kids about death and how our family has pulled together and how one day it really will be easier for all of us as we wiped the tears from our kids faces before bed.
It wasn't as relaxing as I'd hoped. Sheesh. Should have just found batteries for the cattle prod out back. Would have been less painful. Once the kids were safely in bed, Boo put in the horror movie and looked at me and informed me that a cheap horror flick would be just the remedy to chase our son's ghost from the room and erase the melancholy that had pervaded the air.
Except the horror movie wasn't scary. It was all about some dude's dead kid. And how he missed her. And how he wondered if his child was in heaven and if he would be reunited with her.
Instead of jumping at the scary parts, Boo and I sat on the couch, silently wiping the tears from our eyes and wishing for a zombie to come and suck our brains out and erase our pain.
At the end of the movie he just looked at me and shook his head. "That's zero for two. Nice going, Tanis," he growled as he tried to shake the memories of our boy that suddenly clung to the both of us.
I swear I saw a little blonde boy streak through the room, laughing at us. Bug always did have good timing.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling like a big bag of grieving shit. "It didn't say anything about dead kids on the back. Who'd have thought two movies in a row would have the exact same themes? Sheesh. I should have picked up a lottery ticket instead," I said as I poured us both a stiff drink and reached for the box of kleenex.
We briefly debated going to bed and calling it a night but neither of us wanted to go to bed after watching a horror movie and possibly having nightmares about our own little ghost.
So Boo plugged in the next film, the cheesy comedy. Something light and stupid and perfect for making us forget that I apparently have shitty taste in movies. Yet another reason to avoid the video store with the creepy dude, I playfully told Boo as the previews started on screen.
Turns out our cheesy comedy was cheesy. And not so funny. I mean it's hard to laugh at a couple that lost their four year old child and struggled to cope with the tragedy. What I would have given to find a hot poker to stick in my eye at this point.
What was funny was how I could walk into a video store, peruse thousands of videos and choose THREE that featured dead kids and grief. Only me.
When the movie finally ended (thank you GAWD) Boo looked at me, and bumped his knuckles against mine. "That was zero for three. You suck."
We looked at each other and started to laugh. There really wasn't anything funny but the liquor we had ingested to get through all three damned movies was making us light headed.
"Next time you want to do something nice for me, why don't you just greet me at the front door wearing nothing but heels and an apron? Cuz I don't think I can take any more of your movie picks," he grinned.
After a nanosecond of deliberation, I looked him in the eye and said "Deal." Hell, at this point I would have agreed to drive up north to surprise him with an afternoon delight, followed with a blow job in the back seat of his car while wearing nothing but an apron and stilletos. I'd have even agreed to shave my legs.
I swear I heard Bug laughing in the back ground as we shook hands.
I'm never facking renting movies again.
Even if they were just putting together a bed and not bouncing on it.
It wouldn't have been so bad if Boo had arrived home healthy. But the truth of it was, Boo was very ill. Throat abscesses tend to make one feel like shit, or so I'm told. Combined with the lack of sleep from our late night delivery, and you have the makings of one very guilt ridden wife.
So what does a wife do to make it up to her man and show him the deep and abiding love she holds for him when he's too sick to enjoy some special quality time with his naked wife?
Does she get up in the morning allowing him to sleep in while she takes care of his offspring?
She should have. But in my defense, I was reaaaaallly tired. And the kids were excited to see him. Really. So, I may have elbowed his sick and exhausted ass out of bed so he could see the kids on the bus Friday morning. It was done with love.
Does she sit back and ignore the fact all he wants to do is decompress, play some video games and get a good neck rub?
Somewhere out there, I'm sure there is a wife like that. But it's not me. No, instead I drug his sorry butt out of the house to go shopping. And then nagged at him the entire way about how he drives like a little old man.
What can I say? I'm prized wife material. It's a freaking wonder he hasn't traded me in for a newer, better trained model.
But guilt eventually got the better of me as I watched my sick husband struggle through the day, and I wracked my brain about how I could make him feel my undying love for him. Without having to shave my legs or share his nasty sick germs. I mean, love and affection only stretch so far, people.
Instead of trotting him out for the variety of social activities I had planned with family and friends for his weekend home, I cancelled everything and surprised him with a few rented movies.
Generally, I refuse to rent movies. Not because I don't enjoy watching movies at home, but because of the creepy guy who works at the local video store. Last time I went in to rent a movie to entertain the kids I had to endure a long diatribe about political intrigue and government hypocrisy while the guy picked his nose and spoke to my boobs. Just when I thought I could make my escape, he cornered me and asked if I had any interest in the adult movie section.
Funny how he remains single.
But because of my extreme
Boo and I have extremely different movie tastes. He likes shoot 'em up action movies and badly produced comedies. I prefer documentaries and the odd chick flick. After wandering the aisles, I fought my selfish impulses and picked movies strictly for Boo. A football flick to play to his sport enthusiast side, a horror flick so I could cuddle up with him and let him play the big strong man, and a cheesy comedy that would certainly cause my brains to seep out of my ears but induce hearty laughter in my man.
Feeling quite proud of myself, I braved the creepy dude, kept my arms folded over my chest and made a beeline to my car. It was going to be a good night, I told myself.
Boo was playing video games with the kids when I got home, so I walked behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. "I rented movies for you," I told him as I dug my fingers into the knots in his muscles.
"British movies and movies with subtitles will not make up for breaking the hundred dollar rule," he whimpered as I pushed harder into his muscles.
"No, but will a comedy, a horror flick and a football movie gain me any points?" I countered sweetly.
He stopped playing video games, looked at me and tried to gauge whether I was pulling his leg. I leaned over and kissed him and pointed to the movies sitting on the coffee table.
"Well, it'll help," he said as he stood up to go see if I was playing a cruel trick on him. Oh ye, of little faith, I thought to myself. It was like watching a child unwrap a present when he thumbed through the titles and saw that I was not yanking his chain.
He looked at me and all he said was "I'll be damned." I must remember to do nice things for him more often. He's becoming quite the skeptic.
After supper, the four of us gathered around to watch the football flick. It was supposed to be one of those cheesy inspirational movies, the kind I don't mind the kids watching with us before bed. It was quality bonding time for the Rednecks.
Except the cheesy football flick turned into a weeper about death and learning how to cope with it's messy aftermath. Instead of inspiring our family with it's moral, it reminded all four of us what we had been through and just how shattered our lives became after one October night. Boo and I ended up having a fairly serious talk with the kids about death and how our family has pulled together and how one day it really will be easier for all of us as we wiped the tears from our kids faces before bed.
It wasn't as relaxing as I'd hoped. Sheesh. Should have just found batteries for the cattle prod out back. Would have been less painful. Once the kids were safely in bed, Boo put in the horror movie and looked at me and informed me that a cheap horror flick would be just the remedy to chase our son's ghost from the room and erase the melancholy that had pervaded the air.
Except the horror movie wasn't scary. It was all about some dude's dead kid. And how he missed her. And how he wondered if his child was in heaven and if he would be reunited with her.
Instead of jumping at the scary parts, Boo and I sat on the couch, silently wiping the tears from our eyes and wishing for a zombie to come and suck our brains out and erase our pain.
At the end of the movie he just looked at me and shook his head. "That's zero for two. Nice going, Tanis," he growled as he tried to shake the memories of our boy that suddenly clung to the both of us.
I swear I saw a little blonde boy streak through the room, laughing at us. Bug always did have good timing.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling like a big bag of grieving shit. "It didn't say anything about dead kids on the back. Who'd have thought two movies in a row would have the exact same themes? Sheesh. I should have picked up a lottery ticket instead," I said as I poured us both a stiff drink and reached for the box of kleenex.
We briefly debated going to bed and calling it a night but neither of us wanted to go to bed after watching a horror movie and possibly having nightmares about our own little ghost.
So Boo plugged in the next film, the cheesy comedy. Something light and stupid and perfect for making us forget that I apparently have shitty taste in movies. Yet another reason to avoid the video store with the creepy dude, I playfully told Boo as the previews started on screen.
Turns out our cheesy comedy was cheesy. And not so funny. I mean it's hard to laugh at a couple that lost their four year old child and struggled to cope with the tragedy. What I would have given to find a hot poker to stick in my eye at this point.
What was funny was how I could walk into a video store, peruse thousands of videos and choose THREE that featured dead kids and grief. Only me.
When the movie finally ended (thank you GAWD) Boo looked at me, and bumped his knuckles against mine. "That was zero for three. You suck."
We looked at each other and started to laugh. There really wasn't anything funny but the liquor we had ingested to get through all three damned movies was making us light headed.
"Next time you want to do something nice for me, why don't you just greet me at the front door wearing nothing but heels and an apron? Cuz I don't think I can take any more of your movie picks," he grinned.
After a nanosecond of deliberation, I looked him in the eye and said "Deal." Hell, at this point I would have agreed to drive up north to surprise him with an afternoon delight, followed with a blow job in the back seat of his car while wearing nothing but an apron and stilletos. I'd have even agreed to shave my legs.
I swear I heard Bug laughing in the back ground as we shook hands.
I'm never facking renting movies again.