Sold Out

I can't believe it.

My wife, my best friend, the mother of my spawn, my most precious confidant...has sold me out. Sent me up the river. Held me up for ridicule in front of our neighbors & friends. I'm an emotional wreck today and from where I'm looking at things today, only a new giant screen TV with hi-def and an accompanying XBox 360 will even begin to heal the wounds.

Maybe throw in a new set of Nike's for good measure.

Let's go back a few days ago.

There we were, at our neighbors' home, enjoying the 4th of July over a huge stack of BBQ ribs. Our neighbor Ken is a fiend at grilling out ribs!! Oh baby....

Anyway, we (the adults) were sitting around the table talking about anything and everything when all of a sudden I heard a huge roar of laughter and my wife patting my arm in a patronizing manner.

Uh oh, I thought. I just got punk'd somehow.

"What's so funny" I asked.

"Oh, nothing" my wife said, trying to hide the "funny" she'd had at my expense. Our neighbors, however, were laughing so hard they had no problem telling me what my wife had revealed to them.

"Jennifer said you believe in BIGFOOT!!" they screamed in hilarity.

Oh man. The wave of emotion that washed over me at that moment...humiliation, betrayal, astonishment, shock, awe, ebarrassment and hunger...hey, we were eating ribs and I don't care what's going on. When I eat ribs, I'm eatin' me some ribs!!

"Well" I stammered in a pathetic excusatory way "I'm not saying I DO believe in Bigfoot but then again, I'm not saying I don't."

WHY DON'T I LEARN TO LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE???? I could have easily deflected their bold, brazen accusations with the first part of my response and been moving on to the caramel apple dessert but NOOO!! I have to add that last 'disclaimer' about my wavering belief in Sasquatch. The result?

More laughter and table smacking...and that was just from my wife. The things you confide in your spouse with are suddenly dinner-time fodder. I'll remember that the next time I develop a rash.

So, after being branded with a giant "L" for my own scarlet letter (Arthur Dimsdale I'm not), we went out for the fireworks and the rest of the evening. However, my wife's under-cutting was not quite over.

Last night, about 12:30am, we'd just drifted off to sleep when I began to dream. It wasn't a good dream either. I dreamed that I was standing on our deck at night with the family next to me and from the corner of my eye, I saw this big furry shape come running out of the darkness behind our swingset toward all of us. Naturally, being the man of the house, realizing my duty to protect my loved ones, I did the thing that any red-blooded American male would do.

I (apparently and allegedly) whimpered and screamed at it in an effort to frighten it away. I did this so much so that I woke up my wife, by which then she returned the favor to me by saying, in her most loving "you just woke me up" voice...

"Hey! Knock it off! You're dreaming again! Be quiet!!"

I've heard steam pipes with less hissing than her voice had last night.

"Wha??" I asked, bleary eyed.

"You were moaning and whimpering in your sleep. What's the matter with you...you dreaming about Bigfoot again?" she asked accusatorily.

How did she know about that? Is she inside my mind somehow, playing tricks on me for her own personal enjoyment? Whatever you do, I told myself, don't let her know. Don't let on. She musn't gain the upper hand. Be strong.

"No" I mustered. "It wasn't Bigfoot. It was a possum or a beaver."

Danger Will Robinson, danger!! Idiot on the flight deck!! Idiot in control!!!

"Oh you are kidding me" she groaned. "A possum and you're shrieking at it?? Way to protect us, Miss Muffett. You are such a girl."

Ouch.

Point, serve, match.

My self-defense classes against rodents begins later this afternoon. You never know when it may come in handy. It might help me in real life combat situations against nocturnal beavers & racoons but nothing can protect me from the razor-sharp wit and tongue of my beloved.

Anyone know how much chain mail costs these days?