Sleeping in the Bra

She came home from a long day at work. She'd missed him terribly, and he greeted her with his usual nod and hello. "We've been together to long" She thought. He doesn't even care.

She sat down on the other couch (there wasn't enough room for her on the same couch) and waited for him to finish his TV program...and the next one.

Finally she took the remote and said "You wanna watch "____" with me?"

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna read some in bed."

She got snippy, and called him on the fact that they did whatever he wanted, and when it was time for him to do something for her, he bailed.

So that's just what he did. He went into the bedroom and slammed the door.

15 minutes later, the door hadn't opened.

On one side was a guy who was over it. He was feeling a little tired, and so he got into bed and fell asleep.

On the other side was a girl enraged. She sat on the couch, arms crossed. She fell asleep staring at the door, waiting for it to open and for him to apologize. She awoke at 6AM, and saw the door was open. He hadn't woken her up. She went to the door and slammed it shut.

She took off her bra, found some pj pants in the laundry basket, and got back on the couch. She'd be damned if she would be the one to break this time. She was sick of being the one to initiate and talk things out. Well Fuck That.

Sadly, He woke up in the morning and thought the exact same thing. So they went around the whole morning being total girls and not speaking to each other.

Finally she asked him if he planned on talking to her today, because if he wasn't she was leaving. She couldn't handle this anymore.

They sat down, and talked it out.

They both acted like complete tools, for something that could've been talked out in five minutes. They really need to grow up. :-)

Lies My Father Told Me

The biggest lie my Dad ever told me was that it was impossible to hit a bird with the car. I was naive and fifteen, and learning how to drive. He was serious about teaching me how to drive, and I drove to school every day, with him teaching me all the way.

We had a long stretch of road going 35mph for about 5 minutes to get out of our neighborhood, and the road was constantly strewn with roadkill. Mostly rabbits, but a few skunks and squirrels came about from time to time. Sadly, once or twice I did see a cat. I always hoped it was a stray and never belonged to anyone.

I was always afraid of hitting something. My dad told me "There are enough rabbits in the world, don't worry about running them over. In fact, it's worse to slow down. Birds are smarter than you think; they actually know how much time it takes to fly across the road."

"But Dad," I countered, "What about all those birds I see on the road to school everyday? Obviously they weren't smart enough to know...those are a lot of birds! I don't want to hit a bird!"

Dad replied "Those are birds that just happened to die on the road. Then people just ran over them. The chances of you hitting a bird are slim to none, you have nothing to worry about."

So, I stopped worrying about it. I kept on driving, and I never hit a thing. Until my junior year of high school.

One memorable day I was driving the road with my dad, and out of the corner of my eye I see a bird swoop down. I don't worry, because birds are smarter than you'd think. It'll clear my car before I even come close.

Needless to say, this particular bird was...not having a good day. I didn't hit it with my tires, but It only cleared one tire before I got there. I panicked and looked in my rear-view mirror to see the bird spinning out of control before giving up and hitting the pavement. For a moment I was overcome with guilt.

Then I got angry. I yelled "YOU TOLD ME I'D NEVER HIT A BIRD! YOU LIED TO ME!"

I never trusted him with flaky facts like that again. :-)

The World's Crappiest Violin

A long time ago, Lover Boy and I happened upon two violins. They were broken down and battered, and I wanted to leave them where they were. LB insisted we save them and clean them up. Nevermind that he never even studied the violin, whereas my lessons consisted of 2 months back in the 6th Grade.

Needless to say, they've spent the past few years gathering dust in the back of the guest bedroom closet. They are crappy, and I have no idea how much it would cost to put them back in working order. Out of sight, out of my mind. Until a few weeks before Christmas anyway.

One of my co-workers was talking about one of her little girls, and how all she wanted for Christmas was her own violin, but they were just to expensive (I don't think they are pricey per se, it's just that she has a bazillion children and they each get a tic tac for supper because money is tight)

Anyway, her mention of violins reminded me of my dusty couple in my closet. I tell her about them...how they are dull, broken, and aren't at all that pretty. I also don't know how much it would be to fix them, perhaps more than just getting a new violin might be. But they are her's if she wants them.

She, at least, acts like she's over the moon about this new development. I try and calm her down and said that they are, in fact, awful. Hardly worth getting excited about. In fact, they might just make nice wall decoration and that's all.

I bring them by work and give them to her the week before Christmas. I help her carry them out to the car and give them to her husband.

Her husband says to me "This is such a blessing, thank you."

A blessing. My crappy violins. The ones that in a few weeks I was just going to chuck out in the garbage.

Great. Now they made me feel all guilty for giving them crappy instruments. And also for being Jewish. I hate it when Catholics do that!