My Sexy Wife

A lot of guys will throw a quick sentence or two up on Facebook every once in a while and feel as if they have done an adequate job giving their wives some form of public recognition for their success at fulfilling their obligatory wifely duties. After I finish gagging on their pitiful attempts to gain favor with their wives, I usually sit back and ponder how wonderful my own wife is. She’s worth much more than a passing blurb on a social media website that is cluttered with so-called “friends.”  That’s why I prefer to give my wife an entire blog post as opposed to a lowly sentence. 

Sure she’s fun, and cute, and smart, and all those other things, but there are some things that she does that are so far above and beyond the standard wifely expectations that she deserves some recognition. A few weeks ago she did something so thoughtful and caring that it just blew me away. 

It had been drizzling a little outside and things were starting to get wet. It must have been a Thursday because the girls had been at the farm where they spend every Thursday afternoon. Farms, by nature, are not clean places. My wife, knowing that I am not a fan of mud being ground into the floor mats, did something that I would have done. Before stepping into the car with her muddy foot, she turned the floor mat upside down so the rubber side was facing up. That way all the mud would collect on the rubber and not on the carpet. It’s an old trick that I sometimes do, but not one that is in her usual repertoire. The minute I saw that upside-down floor mat, the only thing I could think of was how sexy my wife was. 

It continued raining off and on for the next several weeks and I left the rug in place as a reminder of her incredible sexiness. I washed her car this week and realized that the forecast for the next few weeks was clear, so it was time to flip things back the way they were. That got me thinking. What else has she done that is sexy beyond belief?

One of the first things to cross my mind was the weekend getaway that we took a few years back. As we sat in the hotel contemplating where to go to dinner, she suggested that we go to the restaurant that was full of TVs so we could watch the American League Championship Series as we ate. Come on guys, you have to admit that’s pretty sexy. 

Then there was the time when she was nine months pregnant with our first child. I came home from work to find the lawn mower in the middle of the back lawn. Half of it was mowed, but the mower was hanging out right where she had stopped. So what if she didn’t finish. She knew that I wasn’t going to have time to mow since the baby was coming that night. Again, on the sexy scale, that’s at least a 9.5. 

Of course there is also her latest fad: fires. She has decided the building a fire in the fire place connects her to her country roots. It’s been cold lately, so there has been a fire everyday. As matter of fact, I’m staring at one of her combustable works of art as I type. That’s an easy nine, and possibly even a ten on those really cold nights. 

Now that we have five kids, things aren’t what they used to be. The other day, I asked her what part of her day was the best. You know what she said? Cleaning the bathroom. Why? I asked. Because that was the only part of the day when the kids actually left her alone. A perfect 10. 

All in all, she’s a pretty hot woman. Especially when she lights the fire. Sure we have our arguments whenever she’s wrong, but even her apologies have a sexy flare to them. I guess I’ll keep her around for a few more years. You never know what other sexy surprises she might have in store for me. 

      
Try to fit all that into your daily status update all you Facebook flunkies. 

Kitty Noises

Cats can make a lot of different sounds. Sometimes they meow at the door until someone lets them into the house. Sometimes they curl up on your lap and purr contentedly. Other times they might knock something off a shelf and send it crashing to the floor. And sometimes they let out a sorry sounding cry for help as a wild animal devours their flesh while their owner stands helplessly by. Our cat made one of those noises last night. Can you guess which one? 

The cats meow at the door all the time, so I probably wouldn’t take the time to write about that event and I’m not sappy enough to write about them purring on my lap. If one of them knocked over something valuable I might be willing to write about it, but for the most part, there isn’t anything breakable of much value on any of our shelves. That leaves us with only one remaining option: wild animals. 

The last of the kids had just been put to bed and my wife and I were buttoning up the house for the night when we heard the sound. It was a pathetic and terrified screeching meow that came from just outside the living room window. “Get out there!” my wife demanded as she froze in her tracks. I ran to the front door only to be reminded that the door knob had broken earlier in the day and there was no way to open it. Plan B was to go out the back and run around the house into the front yard, but the back gate was locked and it would take too long to get the key. The final option was to run to the garage and out into the front yard that way. By the time I figured out the best way to get to the helpless cat, it was too late, she was gone. I searched all the usual places and my son even brought a flashlight out, but, alas, no glow-in-the-dark eyes ever peered back at me. 

A few minutes later, my wife joined us with a bag of kitty treats. She shook the bag a few times and we heard it, a faint meow, kind of like the “I’m at the door, let me in” sort of meow, but quieter. “I think I hear something,” I said. “Shake it again.” So she did and the cat responded again with the same cry. We flashed the lights around the bushes in another vain attempt to find the presumably mangled cat. I mentioned to my wife that when I first came out I had heard some rustling in the bushes so we focused our attention in that area and heard a third cry, this time from above. As we gazed upwards, high above us in a leafless tree sat a shaking cat. 

“Come on kitty,” my wife called out again shaking the bag of treats. The cat tried to find a route down, but apparently in her hasty flight up the tree, she had neglected to map out a path of retreat. “Go get the ladder,” Mommy suggested without really leaving any room for me to decline. A few minutes later, clad in only shorts and a t-shirt on a cold dark night, I found myself climbing a ladder to rescue a cat from a tree. 

By the time I had come down, half the family was waiting for me on the lawn and I was immediately told to put the cat in bed with my oldest daughter who desperately wanted to know that her kitty was okay. Somehow this little cat had escaped the jaws of a violent beast and scurried up a tree to safety seconds before being torn apart and came out of it completely unscathed. 

As I drifted off to sleep later that night, little did I know that the hamster was busy escaping from her cage and slipping out into the darkened house; the house that was guarded by the recently rescued kitty.