This morning I came home from work. In the midst of telling my wife about my evening, she suddenly interrupts with "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD"
While my work shift had some actual work involved, I didn't think it was so exciting that it would elicit such a strong and loud response. She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror doing what women do with their hair. I don't know about this kind of stuff. My involvement with my hair is cutting it back off as much as I can (also read: as short as my wife will allow it to get, apparently she isn't into the boot camp haircut on my head) Anyways....I thought, well maybe she burned herself with one of those hair tool thingys that women use. But no, that isn't the case. As I walk in to see her, she is examining a very lightly colored hair, it was pretty much white. I say pretty much, because it wasn't entirely white. It had SOME coloration to it. Now my wife wears vision correction devices. I on the other hand have better than 20/20 vision. So obviously I can see better than she can.
But she's freaking out about finding grey hairs on her head. She's 29. I met her when she was 17 when I met her. She had these ultra light colored hairs back then. I guess she never noticed them before. but she is completely focused on her having grey hairs. Apparently her mind can't get past what her eyes see. I attempt to explain to her that these are not "old lady" grey hairs, but merely the same kind of super light colored hairs she has always had. I've seen pictures of her when she was young and had hair that nearly qualified as albino in its coloration. While your hair may darken to a different hue over time, you never lose all your natural coloring, even the really light stuff. I know this, she SHOULD know this, but naturally being a woman, the first reaction is not to be logical and develop a clear sense of conclusions. Nope, its to freak out in some weird traumatic emotional overload.
And yes, I can get away with saying this, because my attempts to quell her emotional tide have already gotten her irritated with me...and being her boyfriend, fiancee, and husband for so many years, the hole I've dug for myself is so deep there is no hope of ever getting out of it. I'm currently constructing a state of the art nuclear proof bunker while I'm down here. I have already offered the rational, well thought out, and sensible conclusion as to what the hair was, and all without a hint of emotion. Well, there was some emotion, but it was the immature giddy kind, as I used a higher pitched voice while mocking her initial spastic verbal reactions. But beyond that...completely sensible. God, I am sure glad I'm a boy and don't freak out over such small fry stuff. I now shall sit back and await a unified female backlash for this posting here in the blog as well as from the facebook community of female friends who will chastise me about my insensitivity, to which I say "Screw it!"
The Colonel May Need to be Demoted
After returning home from a weekend full of Thanksgiving festivities, my wife decided it was time to erect the Christmas Tree. Not a big deal in my eyes. The Colonel however had ideas of using it as a training opportunity. At some point a few days ago, he attacked the tree vigorously in an attempt to make it submit. My wife caught him in the act. With one of the fake branches the cat had managed to dislodge from its place, she whacked the Colonel. He ran off to hide.
That was 4 days ago. Now, I get the whole retreat to regroup after a vicious attack like that. I've done it before, and will probably do it again. But I always come back. The Colonel has, as of the last 2 months, become oddly affectionate, and will crawl up in our laps for some relaxation while being petted. However it is day 4, and every time she approaches, he runs off and hides. Clearly the Colonel has become a coward. The Mookified Army, including the Feline Division, is expected to act bravely and smartly in all situations and never fear an opponent, no matter how ruthless they may be. As the Commanding General of the Mookified Armed Forces, i take to the front of the charge, involving myself in all the glorious battles that ensue, as a true leader should. I smart at my wife, knowing full well that I may be awakened from sleep being victimized with a maneuver called "The Claw" ripping my abdominal muscles away from my body. It tickles and hurts all at the same time, and yet, I return with aggressive rhetoric and offensive strategies of pure genius. I also know that at any given confrontation my wife may tweak my highly sensitive and tiny little nipples as a response to these offensives. It hurts like no one's business. But, the campaign must continue, no matter how many injuries I receive or purple hearts I find pinned to my uniform. Because in the words of a highly touted rap artist, "I ain't scurred."
Today, the Colonel had to be coaxed to her so she could pet him and let him know she still loved him. He was more than just a little apprehensive about this meeting. Clearly though, the Colonel has demonstrated a propensity for cowardice when it comes to my wife. It was a disappointing and embarrassing moment for me, as his commanding officer to see this streak of yellow painted boldly down his back. He will have limited time to earn his right to retain rank, otherwise, I may have to demote the cat.