A match is struck.
The fizzle sizzles as the fuse ignites.
Dunn dunn, dun dun, dunn dunn, dun dun. Doo dee doo. . .the "Mission Impossible" theme song runs through my head as I stealthily make my way to the door.
An almost imperceptible jingle of the keys betrays my exit, and before my hand reaches the knob, POOF! There stands my teenager and my dog with the same expression of anticipation.
"Are we going for a ride?"
"Can I drive?"
Take a wild guess who's thinking what. That three-legged border collie is lucky I don't drive a standard.
CanIdrive, canIdrive, canIdrive???? At first it was kind of cute, but it has since lost its charm. I've been thinking, though. There are ways I could use it to my advantage. Do you smell smoke? Oh, yeah, the match. . .
For instance, I was wondering where the "help" had managed to disappear to the other night after dinner. My husband was loading the dishwasher and I was putting the leftovers into the frdge when I noticed the milk was low. "Baby, would you mind running up to get some milk?"
POOF! "Can I drive?"
"Well, Hello! Why don't you finish up the kitchen and then we'll talk?"
The wheels are spinning and I feel like a modern day Pavlov. . .the garbage needs to go, jingle the keys, POOF!. . .towels need folding, jingle the keys, POOF!. . .itchy back, jingle the keys, POOF!
I believe I may be onto something, here.
But you know, while I am thinking about it, maybe IIII'm the one who is being manipulated. She HAS been drinking an awful lot of milk lately. . . and whistling the theme song. . .doo dee doo, doo dee doo. ..
Divorce in Progress
6 days ago