Not much happened today--a cold, rainy day off of work, running errands with Jeannie and because of the weather, some napping occurred.
Unfortunately, there was one low-lite of the day, and here's how it happened:
To start off it should be noted that Jeannie had just eaten a sandwich made of onions, banana peppers, red peppers, cheese, and tomatoes. She also had some fries. And ketchup. So, her breath wasn't smelling that great. I think we've all been there at one point or another.
So, we're on the couch and I'm laying with my head on her lap and my eyes are closed, and I notice that her breath smelled differently than it normally does (which is sweet and wonderful and a mouthful of sunshine). But the smell reminds me of something, and I can't quite place what it is, and then I remember what it is, so I tell her this story:
When I was a kid, my next door neighbors had trained their dogs to go poop on a concrete pad in the corner of their yard. It didn't smell too great when you got near it. But then, when it would rain, all the poop would get washed away, and then when you went near the corner of the yard, it smelled like a strange mixture of fresh, just-rained grassy smell and recent dog poop smell.
Perhaps I used poor judgment in telling Jeannie this story to illustrate what her breath reminded me of, but we both laughed about it, and I thought we were all good. Then, a little while later, I was telling her how relaxed I was resting my head on her lap, and just as the words were coming out of my mouth, she poured cold water on my face. She said she thought it would be funny, but I don't think it's very funny. We've tentatively made up but I think it's definitely going to put a strain on our relationship for awhile.
Anyway, tomorrow we start house-sitting for the next 11 days. Whirlpool tub, here I come.
3 comments:
Remember Divort? You should bring that up again.
Dan, remember after some SLUH production rehearsal in high school lots went to Imo's Pizza? We didn't know each other very well-- I think I basically knew you from AP Chemistry, you sitting through every class always without notes or a textbook-- but I was sitting next to you, and we were chatting casually in a semi-serious way. Then, suddenly, I spit on your face. For no reason. Not soda or water, real spit. It was hilarious! It was a phase I was in at the time, but I thought it was especially funny because you were a bit of a big-shot and I was a newbie underclassman. I always imagined the craziness of that impressed you and endeared me to your heart. Remember that?
I do remember that, Witz, now that you mention it, but I don't remember my reaction. I do have respect for shit like that, though, and perhaps that was the day that I began loving you so damned much.
Post a Comment