The Noise

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My wife snores ….like a sailor. We sleep in separate bedrooms and have for 4 years. She kept me up all night. I had to move. I can still hear her in her room. It’s kind of funny.

She takes trips with her girlfriends. I ask how they deal with her snoring, she doesn’t know, they never say anything about it she tells me.  I find that hard to believe.

Makes for a sorry love life


Thinks We Do On Mothers Day

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We are young, dumb, and stupid. It’s Mothers Day, and our son is just four months old. I have been fretting over what to get my wife for her first Mothers Day. If we had to have, two penny’s to pee in a pot, we would have to hold it. We were that poor back then. I couldn’t let her first Mother’s Day pass without a gift of some kind.

I had worked on the weekend’s scraping enough money together to buy one rose and a card. I gathered aluminum cans, sold them back to the stores, and raised enough money to purchase these two items. I was proud of myself.

I placed the card and rose on the table that morning so she would notice it when she walked out of the bedroom.

Our son woke at his usual time. I changed his diaper, feed him, and played with him until he fell asleep on the floor. He looked so innocent laying there, and I couldn’t wait for my wife to awaken and see her gift.

She sleep late that morning and when she walked out of the bedroom she was surprised to see the yellow rose, her favorite, on the table and picked it up and stuck it to her nose. Immediately she began to have trouble breathing. I’m running around trying to figure out what to do. I rushed her to the car and to the hospital.

At the hospital, they determined that she had an allergic reaction to something on the rose. It was while at the hospital that I remembered that our son was still laying on the floor of our apartment asleep and alone.

I had forgotten about him in all the fuss and my wife never asked about him. While the doctors worked on my wife, I searched for a quarter, to call my neighbor to get my son. I asked several people at the hospital for a quarter, and they all refused. As stated previously, back then we were broke, penniless, couldn’t pee in a pot.

It was an old woman, who looked as if she had less money than we did, that reached in her pocket, pulled out a quarter, and handed it to me. I thanked her and wished her a happy Mother’s Day. Mothers always seem to know when they have to come to the rescue.

I called my neighbor in a panic, and she went next door, got our son, and took care of him until we made it home four hours later. My wife never forgave me for this. She was mad to the bitter end. We arrived home, and she went straight to bed and slept the rest of the day.

You see, my wife wasn’t angry about our son, she was mad about the rose. She never asked about our son. Not once, even when we returned home. It was all about the rose.

What I didn’t understand was the massive train wreck headed my way in the next two years, and this was the first indication. I was blind to the first symptom.

Have you ever looked back and examined your life, and realized that if you had paid attention to that one small detail, how different your life would have been. God provides the warning signs; he just doesn’t make them as large as billboards. Sometimes there as small as a few words, a single sentence, four hours out of a day.

My Cats

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Every morning at 5AM our two cats get me out of bed to join them as they start their new day. It’s not 4:45am or 5:15am, it’s 5:00am. They begin their morning with a romp across the bed, over each of us, stopping next to me, starring into my face, watching as my eye’s slowly open to see them starring at me, waiting for me to realize they are ready to get up, and start the new day.

Ninja, the black cat, and youngest of the two, is the first to start the morning run. He is first up, and ready to get going. Carlos, the older of the two, and our Main-Coon, and much more mature cat would rather lay in the bed, and sleep until my wife gets out of bed around 7am, but Ninja will have none of that in the mornings.

Ninja, has also developed a morning routine that matches mine. The first thing I do when I get out of bed is hit the bathroom; well the first thing Ninja does once I get out of bed, is hit the litter box. I told my wife this is the funniest site watching this cat running in front of me towards the bathroom, and then heading to the litter box as I break off, and headed into the bathroom. I can hear Ninja kicking the litter around in the box as I am exiting the bathroom.

While all this is going on, Carlos is sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for Ninja to complete his bathroom run, and they both run downstairs and beat me to the kitchen. They are both sitting there waiting for their breakfast. Carlos starring at me when I turn the corner with his, “What took you so long?” look.

Our morning has begun. The next three hours they spend watching the morning financial shows, and talk shows on TV with me, and wondering just what I get from the trash talk that comes from the mess discussed on the TV. After the TV is turned off, Carlos is back up stairs, on the bed, and he takes his morning nap until after 1PM. Ninja, he’s like a tornado, running at full speed around the house until he runs out of wind around 9am, and then he hits the bed, and joins Carols until 1pm.

I need their life.

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