Archive for March, 2008

March 29, 2008

I woke up this morning to the sound of swearing…

I woke up this morning to the sound of swearing.  Well, first, there was a loud crash… a splash… an “AhhhhhhHHHHH!”… and THEN the swearing.

Too be honest, I was already a bit awake… but trying real hard not to be.  I heard hubby get up, and knew he was running around… getting ready to leave.  He was late, as usual, and so the normal slamming, sighing, and general mumbling was going on.  But, for once I personally did NOT have any big obligations this morning, and after a long hectic week I was planning on savoring just a LITTLE bit of sleeping in for once.  So, no, I wasn’t sleeping, but I wasn’t going to admit it.  I had hopes of going BACK to sleep momentarily – if he’d just leeeeeeave. 

So, there I was…  feigning to be asleep.  Unwilling to deal with HIS problems of getting himself out the door this Saturday morning.  “He can find his OWN socks!”, I thought to myself as I refused to open my eyes.  After all, when is the last time *I* ran around in the morning bumping into walls (loudly!) and expecting HIM to get up and find me something to wear? Like, some underwear that are RIGHT in my drawer?  Or help me find my keys? (that somehow get lost every damn day!)  Or whatever?!
So, I had made up my mind that he was on his own…

That is… until I heard the crash, splash, “ahhhh”, and loud swearing noises.  It wasn’t the swearing or the crashing that got me.  Because, sometimes, hubby does this over really important things anyway –  like not being able to find the top to a Tupperware bowl.  No real emergency there – but, he likes to make it one sometimes which has made me a bit immune to his mood swings.  No, it wasn’t the swearing and slamming… it was the loud “AHHHHHHH!” that came first.  This was not your usual scream of frustration, but the sound of primeval pain.

For all my bitching and kibitzing about my hubby sometimes, I do love him dearly.  So, when I realized he was hurt – I jumped out of bed faster than I knew I could move in the morning without coffee… and came running.  And, what do I find?  Coffee.  Everywhere.  While my hubby is continuing to spew smut from his mouth, and is holding his arm.  Dabbing himself with a dish towel. I notice he has coffee all down the front of himself.. and it’s all over the floor.  Apparently, the coffee pot literally just fell apart… the bottom dropped out… and, boiling hot coffee went all down my hubby’s arm, front, and the floor. 

Super wife and mother that I am, I sprang into action.  Shooing my boys from the area to protect their feet from the glass and coffee, as well as their ears from the vulgar language.  I strip my hubby’s shirt from his arm and tell him to put it under cold running water  while I start to clean up.  He, of course, doesn’t listen to me – screams something about being late and runs back to the bedroom to change.

I clean up the mess, because somewhere along the line that became part of my life’s job description – “mess cleaner upper” – and I go check on hubby.  His arms all red…. But, he won’t listen or wait… He’s rambling on about the coffeepot, and how we should SUE MR. Coffee!… and then he runs out the door.  He does manage to give me a kiss, and say “thanks for cleaning that up” first….

I’m left standing in my kitchen… feeling a bit bewildered… mop in hand… wondering what it would have felt like to sleep in for another hour, but, knowing that I’ll never know now.  There are  2 hungry boys looking at me wanting breakfast…  and, the list of things that I SHOULD get done today starts going thru my head …


And then it dawns on me. 


There’s no god damn coffee for me now.


Crap!


*sigh*

Suddenly… the door opens… it’s hubby… he’s back. ???  I brace myself.  What did he forget?  And I hope I’ll know where the hell he put it.  I wait for the hurricane of his flying thru the house looking for whatever, screaming obscenities about being really LATE now. 


But, no… he’s carrying something. ??


It’s….. it’s….

It’s  two large cups of coffee from the local donut shop. 


“Thought you might like some coffee” , he says and hands me one…


“Thanks”, I say…  somewhat confused, and certainly relieved…


And, he’s off again. 


Then, it hits me. 


He came back to bring me coffee. 


With his sore arm…
while running late…
and, in the midst of his sucky morning…


I smile. =)


He really DOES love me.


~smj

   

March 25, 2008

What Kind of Spring?

Frozen green grass,
Crackles under my feet.

Ice covered mud,
Refuses to capture my prints.

Shiny black ice,
Pretends to be street.

They all force me to walk
Slowly
Carefully
In boots

All the while
wondering,
What kind
of Spring
is this?!

~ smj

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