Gold Fish
Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 4:39 am
Each and every time I do something really stupid, my wife will shake her head, give me that look, and then say … “They are going to love you at the home.” Other than her willing promise to love me too death, she also believes that God put her on this planet to take care of me. Which is ludicrous, because we all know, it is just the exact opposite … right men? Right men?
Hellllll-oooooooooo?
This article, boys & girls, will be about gold fish, yeah, life and gold fish.
A teenager walking home from school stops at the local pet shop and purchases two gold fish, and then as his second stop, he drops by the local Chinese Restaurant and gets an order of chop suey to go. Both are in similar containers, little white boxes, metal handles. Upon arriving home, he goes upstairs, opens the box and dumps the contents of the box into the fishbowl.
Unfortunately for him. It is the chop suey; he has chosen the wrong box. He is standing there looking at all of this floating around in the bowl, and his father happens to walk down the hallway, he sees the chop suey and enters the room.
“What’s that?” he asks the boy, and the boy replies, “Chop Suey.”
The father stands there for a moment or two and then says, “Okay, I guess it is alright. But you are taking care of it. Don’t expect me or your mother to do it for you.” That is life; this is the way things are supposed to work. But we all know that isn’t the natural way of things right men?
Right men?
Life has been good to me, interesting, rewarding, and I have had my fair share of gold fish too. My wife, bless her heart, I love her to death. But she will often rag me about allowing my silverware to lie on the table at the eatery. God help me if we happen to stop at a truck stop on the road to eat, and I lay my silverware (I call ‘em my tools) on the table.
This drives her insane (a short trip on some days I might add) when I do this. Foolishly if you do this in her presence you are guaranteed “the look” in less than a Hong Kong second, she will be on you faster than a stray hair on a new bar of soap.
Often out of boredom or complete loss of sanity, I will lay my tools on the table and she will go off on me like you would not believe! Which most always leads to the following exchange: “What in the world is the matter with you woman?” and then she will, usually in great detail, explain to me the inner workings of the Atlanta Disease Control Center.
Somewhat vividly describe every known virus, bacterial infection, or whatever, that ever spent one nano-second on this planet. My bride will in no uncertain terms describe every known virus, plague all the way back to the time of Moses’ and the forty-years wandering in the desert sands of Egypt.
Now when you have a person sitting right across from you doing this, vividly explaining how parts of your anatomy are going to rot off and fall on the floor, simply because you did not lay your tools on the napkin. Well, that can be a tad bit disconcerting to the average guy, to say nothing as to what it will do for your appetite.
Not all that long ago we were in Houston, Texas, and took our kid’s and the grand-babies out to eat. We were steered to a suitable location and we all sat down and prepared for the meal and some conversation. About that time, my daughter-in-law reaches into this bag thingy that has all the baby stuff in it, and produces a box of these small orange crackers that are called “Gold Fish.”
She opens the box, and dumps a copious amount of them STRAIGHT ONTO THE TABLE right in front of me and my wife. I could not believe my eyes! I just sat there with this deer in the headlight look and stared at all these little gold fish on the table. There must have been hundred’s of them, well, there was a whole lot of them scattered about.
Honest people, I am not making this up (Trust me hah).
After a considerable amount of time (what I considered reasonable) I turn and I look at my wife, who by the way seems oblivious to it all. Unbelievable. Seizing what I consider to be a golden moment in time. I look at my wife and I say: “Now will you look at that! She dumped all those crackers on that table and that baby is eating them, what about that? Huh, huh? What about that? How can she do that, and you sit here and say nothing. Answer me that.”
My wife thought about it for a small amount of time (about a fraction of a second actually) and then said to me: “That is her baby. And you are mine.”
Face the facts, “they were put here to rule the world, and you of course, to drive the bus and occasionally shine the chrome … Give it up men, you cannot win. Just pack it in and move on.” *
See you in the fast lane.
BCO
*Any resemblance to any woman, living or dead, is purely coincidental, and if you repeat this story to my wife at any bus rally in the continental United States of America or on property in the lower forty-eight, I will deny each and every word of it categorically.”
Hellllll-oooooooooo?
This article, boys & girls, will be about gold fish, yeah, life and gold fish.
A teenager walking home from school stops at the local pet shop and purchases two gold fish, and then as his second stop, he drops by the local Chinese Restaurant and gets an order of chop suey to go. Both are in similar containers, little white boxes, metal handles. Upon arriving home, he goes upstairs, opens the box and dumps the contents of the box into the fishbowl.
Unfortunately for him. It is the chop suey; he has chosen the wrong box. He is standing there looking at all of this floating around in the bowl, and his father happens to walk down the hallway, he sees the chop suey and enters the room.
“What’s that?” he asks the boy, and the boy replies, “Chop Suey.”
The father stands there for a moment or two and then says, “Okay, I guess it is alright. But you are taking care of it. Don’t expect me or your mother to do it for you.” That is life; this is the way things are supposed to work. But we all know that isn’t the natural way of things right men?
Right men?
Life has been good to me, interesting, rewarding, and I have had my fair share of gold fish too. My wife, bless her heart, I love her to death. But she will often rag me about allowing my silverware to lie on the table at the eatery. God help me if we happen to stop at a truck stop on the road to eat, and I lay my silverware (I call ‘em my tools) on the table.
This drives her insane (a short trip on some days I might add) when I do this. Foolishly if you do this in her presence you are guaranteed “the look” in less than a Hong Kong second, she will be on you faster than a stray hair on a new bar of soap.
Often out of boredom or complete loss of sanity, I will lay my tools on the table and she will go off on me like you would not believe! Which most always leads to the following exchange: “What in the world is the matter with you woman?” and then she will, usually in great detail, explain to me the inner workings of the Atlanta Disease Control Center.
Somewhat vividly describe every known virus, bacterial infection, or whatever, that ever spent one nano-second on this planet. My bride will in no uncertain terms describe every known virus, plague all the way back to the time of Moses’ and the forty-years wandering in the desert sands of Egypt.
Now when you have a person sitting right across from you doing this, vividly explaining how parts of your anatomy are going to rot off and fall on the floor, simply because you did not lay your tools on the napkin. Well, that can be a tad bit disconcerting to the average guy, to say nothing as to what it will do for your appetite.
Not all that long ago we were in Houston, Texas, and took our kid’s and the grand-babies out to eat. We were steered to a suitable location and we all sat down and prepared for the meal and some conversation. About that time, my daughter-in-law reaches into this bag thingy that has all the baby stuff in it, and produces a box of these small orange crackers that are called “Gold Fish.”
She opens the box, and dumps a copious amount of them STRAIGHT ONTO THE TABLE right in front of me and my wife. I could not believe my eyes! I just sat there with this deer in the headlight look and stared at all these little gold fish on the table. There must have been hundred’s of them, well, there was a whole lot of them scattered about.
Honest people, I am not making this up (Trust me hah).
After a considerable amount of time (what I considered reasonable) I turn and I look at my wife, who by the way seems oblivious to it all. Unbelievable. Seizing what I consider to be a golden moment in time. I look at my wife and I say: “Now will you look at that! She dumped all those crackers on that table and that baby is eating them, what about that? Huh, huh? What about that? How can she do that, and you sit here and say nothing. Answer me that.”
My wife thought about it for a small amount of time (about a fraction of a second actually) and then said to me: “That is her baby. And you are mine.”
Face the facts, “they were put here to rule the world, and you of course, to drive the bus and occasionally shine the chrome … Give it up men, you cannot win. Just pack it in and move on.” *
See you in the fast lane.
BCO
*Any resemblance to any woman, living or dead, is purely coincidental, and if you repeat this story to my wife at any bus rally in the continental United States of America or on property in the lower forty-eight, I will deny each and every word of it categorically.”
It's kind of like ( Whats mine is mine and whats your's is mine ) 