I’m Not Crazy, Part One

This morning, I was collecting the haphazardly strewn laundry from my tiny bathroom after a whirlwind of family members finished their daily prep. On the rack behind the door, I noticed the tie my husband wore two nights ago still laying there, now intertwined with one of my bras. I made to grab them when I realized: the bra smelled like my perfume, and the tie smelled like his cologne.

It smelled like our last date. It smelled like us.

I heard the clomping at the front door indicating the three of them were shuffling off to school and work in their heavy snow boots, and thought: I haven’t hugged him goodbye lanced by a self-punishing: dear God what if he dies in a fiery crash and the last thing I said to him was “can’t you pick up after yourself for one morning? Hunh? Can’t you?!”

I barreled out of the bathroom and caught my husband halfway out the door, crashing into his back with my (admittedly wimpy) bear hug.

Him: Um, ouch?

Me: I love how our stuff smells together.

He half-turned as best he could, winding one massive arm in the air and tucking me under that armpit.

Him: It concerns me that you came out of the bathroom to tell me this …

Me: Eeeuw! I mean our colognes, our deodorants, our shampoos and soaps! Our scents. We make a nice blend together. (tearfully) Makes me wanna keep you with me all day, so we can we be all, you know … in perfume harmony.

Him: On a completely unrelated topic, did you take your meds today?

Me: I’m not crazy, I just love you.

Him (with full-on sleazy grin): Babe. Did you enjoy me while I was sleeping? Again?

Me (snarling up a foot and a half at him): I’m trying to love you, stop ruining it by talking!

Him: I told you the last time: wake me up before you do that.

Me: Be quiet before I crack your thick skull, Cro-Mag!

Him: Stand back boys, she’s all mine.

Me:  Stay home today. Skip work. Just stay home and snuggle me.

Him: Are you trying to climb me? What’s going on down there?

Me: Hug me, jerk!

Him: This is pretty bold for the front porch.

Me: More hugging, less talking!

Him: (hugging tighter) Maybe an extra pill today wouldn’t hurt … You know, just one?

Me: (wrestling out of his hold) Ok, stop smothering me, Manimal! Get a hold of yourself.

Him: Grrrr … (growly-voiced) Give me paper clip and me fix you!

Me: What the– that was some MacGyver caveman thing, I don’t even know what that was!

Him: But it was hot, right?

Me:  Well yeah, but that’s beside the point. Get off me!

Him: Need more hug!

Me: GAWD, don’t you have a job to go to? Learn to let go. (closing the front door)

My husband’s thick finger landed on the glass, pointing hard, his big hairy eyebrow arching pseudo-menacingly.

Him: Ug. MacGyver caveman come back. MacGyver caveman get crazy wife later.

Me: (mouthing through the glass)  So clingy. Jeeez. 

No, But I’m Really Not

Two hours later I got busted doing my Tiny Tim impersonation while shovelling snow. Probably I should never do that out loud. Also: there might have been prancing.  In my defense, all my neighbours should have been at work, and everyone knows it’s perfectly acceptable to be ridiculous if no one’s looking. 

Me: Tiptoe … through the window … by the window … that is where I’ll be, And tiptoe … through the tulips … with me (pause, wait for it) Ohhhhhh–agh!!

Teenager next door: Need me to do that? Sounds like you hurt yourself.

So I’m just going to stay in for the rest of the day and rewrite the events of my day. I did not maul my poor husband and humiliate myself in front of a smirking 18 yr old twerp (who was only out for a cig and a scratch as far as I could tell, as he shovelled not.) No, no. Today, as my alter ego, I dignosed an undead plague and battled a zombie dentist in a fursuit. He was a chimp. I kicked ass, and it was epic … even if I was trilling Tiptoe Through the Tulips while I did it.