BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I don’t know if any of you caught the recent news report about this. It was one of the feature stories on The Early Show, and since I like to sit and ogle Julie Chen and Maggie Rodriguez every now and then it’s a program I catch on a regular basis. (Just kidding, I don’t really ogle them. They are both very easy on the eyes, though, I can’t deny that.)

Anyway, as it happens, just the other day they had a feature about Marriage, Relationships, and Intimacy in the wake of starting a family. Basically, some University did a study – probably with our tax dollars if I had to guess – and came up with the conclusion that better than 90% of the time,  once a couple has a kid, intimacy and moreover sex within the adult relationship declines dramatically. They even pointed out that this happens most especially within the first couple of years.

No shit… You know, I never would have figured that out without their help. I mean, it’s not like you suddenly aren’t getting any sleep, or that your whole life doesn’t hinge solely on the well being of this screaming poop machine.  Or that your wife is now in the land of unbalanced hormones and will be for a while. Had they never done this study I’m afraid I might have wandered aimlessly through the rest of my life, always wondering why such things happen.

Okay… That’s enough sarcasm from me for the time being.

So anyway, they talked to some guy with a pile of letters behind his name who is billed as a relationship expert. He was the co-author of the book to the left there… Hmmm… I think the cover artist must have been looking in E Kay’s closet for inspiration or something… But, I digress… I’ll admit, I haven’t actually read this particular book, but I did read one of his other self-help missives – She Comes First. It’s a tome geared toward helping men please their mates in the… you know… bedroom. I read it because I’m all about doing whatever I can to please the E K. It tends to reduce the number of beatings I have to endure, and stuff like that.

However, with regard to She Comes First, let’s just say some of the things in it frightened me. Quite a bit. Not all of them by any means, but there were a few… And, I’m married to Satan in High Heels, so I’m not easily frightened. Okay, I’ll be honest; they didn’t really “frighten” me per se. They did, however, make me go “ewwwww!” At any rate, I won’t go into details, but… ummm… well… ’nuff said… shudder… ewwwwww!… Okay, now ’nuff said.

Anywho, they were talking to him about the Love In The Time Of Colic book – (that I am inadvertently advertising for him… aww hell, maybe he and/or HarperCollins will return the favor) – but, back to the story, one of the things he went on to outline is that couples have to make time for one another, do the date night thing, give each other 20 second long hugs – (Where 20 seconds came from I dunno… Probably all that research is my guess. E K and I usually go for a 2 or 3-minute hug, but then we love each other and all that silliness so we can actually endure physical contact that lasts longer than 20 seconds.)

And, of course, there was also the whole thing about the S word… Yeah, S E X.

Okay… I’ll fess up… We had ourselves another “no shit, Sherlock” moment right then and there. But, to be fair, maybe we are just a bit more well adjusted and free thinking than some other folks and some of this stuff simply hasn’t dawned on them. Therefore, I’m not going to put the guy or his work down. If it helps someone out there, rock on. It’s just that the concepts seemed like no brainers to the Evil One and me.

Still, E K was in a semi-jocular mood… So, as this interview and feature aired, and she was preparing to leave for work, she came over to hug me and started counting aloud – One… Two… Three… Four…

Okay… I guess you had to be there. Trust me, it was funny at the time. Really… It was…

But, moving right along… We had both been chit chatting about this report, pretty much making comments at the TV much like the comments I made above. I did, however, mention to The Evil Redhead that I thought we had handled things fairly well, both throughout the munchkin’s infancy and now with her being an almost tween who demands a lot of attention. I also pointed out that a few good hugs shared between the two of us definitely did make my day complete.

She agreed… Well, I suppose I should say I think she agreed. Her reply was kind of one of those E K grumbling, “Yeah, okay, whatever, now fetch my things out to the car then kiss my feet, lackey,” sort of comments.

Still, even with the grumbling, since she seemed to be in a good mood I then mentioned the more intimately physical aspect of things. Of course, since our offspring happened to be sitting right there staring at the TV, I tried to do it on the sly – How would I do that, you ask? Simple – I said, “And besides the hugs, there’s the whole S-E-X thing.”

Yeah… I spelled out the word… Yeah… Yeah… I know. Our kid is nine, gifted, reads at a level way beyond her years, and has a vocabulary that outshines some high school students I’ve met.  Just bear with me for a second… There really was a method to my madness.

Of course, E K looked at me like I was a blithering idiot, looked at the kid, then back at me – once again like I was an idiot – and then shook her head and said, “Why did you spell it?”

“The kid,” I replied.

“She can spell, you know that.”

“Yeah, but I’m counting on the fact that she’s half asleep and drooling at the TV,” I replied. (For the record, it was Good Friday so the kid was off school.)

E K snickered and said, “Yeah, right.”

“What did you just spell, daddy?” the kid asked out of the clear blue, not breaking her zombie-like stare from the television screen.

“Excess,” I replied without missing a beat.

She mumbled, “Oh… Okay…”

I knew my ploy had been a bit of a gamble, but luck was on my side and it had worked. I looked back at E K in triumph, but she just scowled and cocked her eyebrow. My momentary elation instantly came crashing back to the ground in a crumpled heap.

You see, Her Majesty, The Queen Bitch Of The Whole Fucking Universe, Missouri Chapter, doesn’t like losing, especially if it involves her being wrong and me being…well…not wrong. Even if my “not wrongness” is purely out of luck or even a fortuitous accident. Moreover, not only had I seen that evil look before, unfortunately I knew exactly what it meant.

Seems I’ll be doing without any excess for a while…

More to come…

Murv

I have literally lost track of the number of emails, tweets, Facebook & Myspace comments, and other communications I have received from folks following the deployment of the “Gimme Mai Shooz” blog post. In all honesty, I never expected that story to go as “viral” as it did. Granted, it was a weak virus that played out quickly, but it was probably the first blog post I have ever written that was re-tweeted and linked to from other blogs/sites more times than I could count.

And, who knows, maybe the virus is merely dormant for a short period. I suppose it could re-awaken and spread some more. I mean, it definitely is a funny story.

However, the purpose of this particular blog entry is to address the adjunct “virus” that came along with the post itself – that being the plethora of faux bets on the how and when of my demise for publicly retelling the story in the first place. This is where all of the emails, tweets, comments, etcetera, come into play. I had thrown the “want to play Clue and start a pool?” comment out as a joke, but folks picked it up and ran with it. Not something I really expected, but I don’t suppose I should have been surprised. And besides, it was fun to watch.

There were plenty of the old standby ideas submitted:

• E K in the kitchen with a knife…
• E K in the dining room with a poison sandwich…
• E K in the driveway with her car…

There were even a couple that left me wondering:

• E K with a cheese grater and razor wire…
• E K with Dr. Pepper in the bathtub…

I’m not entirely sure if that second one was a “Dr. Pepper bath” type of Beauty Tip, or if the intention was to use the carbonic & phosphoric acids in the soda to dissolve my remains. In addition to the Clue-like wagers, there were even several suggestions for torture and punishment. I’m not entirely certain that the majority of those suggestions actually fit the crime… In fact, I think maybe some folks have seen way too many episodes of the “Jack Bauer Show” .

Still, when it came to bets on how I would meet my end for embarking on this horrible transgression, the suggestion I received most, and the odds on favorite method for my death was:

• E K somewhere in the house with stiletto heels [add description here]

– The “somewheres“ tendered for consideration ranged anywhere from her shoe closet to just about any other room you could imagine, including some we don’t even have.

– The stiletto heels varied quite a bit in color and style. (Obviously the fashion statement was just as important as my demise.)

– The [add description here] AKA “method” by which the deadly footwear would be used to affect my untimely death varied only slightly and always involved an enormous amount of gleeful stomping and grinding on E Kay’s part, and even more bleeding and suffering on my part.

Not surprisingly, 100% of the death by high heels suggestions came from women. At first, I assumed that all of these ladies had read the RGI Miranda Trilogy, since that happened to be how a particular victim met his demise at the hands… well, feet actually… of a sociopathic killer dominatrix. Then I discovered that several of them had not yet read that far in the series.

That was a bit of a surprise…

What was really shocking to me, however, was the obvious delight most of them took in outlining the details of the scenario for me. There seemed to be a whole vicarious thrill built around it. Some of them even seemed to have spent quite a bit of time dwelling on it… Like maybe even before the whole blog ever happened, if you know what I mean… I even kind of had the feeling I was suddenly becoming a virtual surrogate for some husbands and boyfriends out there who had committed various infractions over the years.

Kinda scary… Kinda really scary, actually…

Because of that, I hope you ladies realize I’m going to be maintaining a safe distance from here on out… Especially if you show up at one of my book signings wearing high heels.

So, anyway, there’s something y’all probably need to know. E K really and truly is an extremely laid back gal. Very little fazes her, and her Evil persona in my blogs is for the most part satire. Now, this is not to say that she won’t tap dance on someone’s head if they cross her, because she definitely will. I’ve seen her do it. I even have pictures. And, I’m also not saying that she isn’t on the dominant side, because that would be a lie.  She is very much the alpha female. And, in our relationship I’m the clown in the mailroom and she’s the CEO – actually, she prefers to be referred to as The Queen, but let’s not take that side road… My point here is she actually knows about my blogs in advance. Maybe not the exact wording and such, but she definitely knows which stories are being told. So, in essence I really had little to fear – from her, anyway. The rest of you twisted women… Well…  I’m not so sure…

At least, that’s what I thought…

You see, as it happens E K gives pretty amazing back walking massages – trust me, that’ll make sense in a minute if it doesn’t already. I figure she was probably a Geisha or something of the sort in a previous life,  – (Egads, please don’t email me and tell me I’ve offended someone with the whole Geisha thing… I realize it’s a whole cultural thing and that I’m probably just focusing on a hyped aspect or something, but give me a break…) – My point being that with sitting in front of a keyboard as much as I do, I will get a crick in my back every now and again. Whenever seeing the Chiropractor isn’t affordable time-wise or money-wise, and E K notices me twisting and stretching quite a bit, she asks with much wifely compassion and concern, “Is your back hurting? Do you want me to walk on it for you?” Then she’ll go all “E K-Geisha” on me and run up and down my back a few times while it goes POP! CRACK! SKRUNCH! After that I’m all good. She really and truly does have a talent for it. Trust me, I’m not the only person for whom she’s done this. She could probably get you testimonials without even threatening anyone.

Anywho, such was the case Saturday evening… As in, the Saturday evening immediately after the blog had been going a bit viral…

I should have known something was up when instead of the normal concerned question, her offer to pop my back came out a bit differently this time. With more than just a bit of a wicked grin and an evil twinkle in her eyes the redhead pretty much issued the following order, in no uncertain terms –

“Lay down and I’ll step on you…”

I didn’t notice her shoes until it was already too late.

I blame you ladies and your suggestions.

More to come…

Murv