In Sickness and in Health
If a spouse were to keep a book of petty gripes and minor grievances over the course of almost four decades, what interesting reading it would make. I have one such addition to my growing tome, see if you don’t agree it deserves an entry….
WHAM! A loud crack and simultaneous white flash of pain and terror shocked my brain like the blast wave of an explosion, so much more so because I was simply walking down the two steps from the dining room into the cold, dark front room lit only by the coals of the past night’s fire.
It was barely 4 a.m. I’m not sure I’d even had coffee.
What the H___ was that! My mind recoiled in fear and agony that had come upon me so unexpectedly. I waved my injured fingertip in the air as if to put out a fire.
“Sorry” she said meekly from her cereal bowl.
“You did WHAT!?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“I found it upstairs in the back room and didn’t know what to do with it, so I put it on the stair post where you’d see it last night.”
I hadn’t seen it, complete with a smear of peanut butter: a cocked mousetrap.
I rest my case.