The Nagging Bone

After dinner last night I mentioned that I heard the weather was supposed to hit the mid sixties Friday and my husband said it was supposed to be the same Saturday, but actually he’s wrong, it’s only going to be in the high forties, nevertheless, after he told me that and before I knew the actual forecast, I said, “Well if it’s going to be in the mid sixties on Saturday, you can get started on trimming the Arborvitaes.”

 “Ow, my back!” He screeched and grabbed his lower back as if he was in horrific pain.

 Our son, Austin, came into the kitchen and gently prodded his dad’s back then said, “It’s the nagging bone, Dad, it’s really bad.” Then he wrapped his arms around his dad’s shoulders, which lead to Madea, our German Shepherd mix, going ballistic.

 “See what YOU did,” my husband said, blaming ME for her barking when he hugs any one of us.

“It’s not MY fault,” I said as I shined my halo and flapped my angel wings.

“Yes it is. You’re the one who yelled help all those times I pretended to smack you and now I can’t even TOUCH anyone.” He did have a point, although Madea always whined or barked if he hugged or touched any one of us. She’s louder now though, since, like he said, I yelled help a dozen few times for no reason other than to jack him off.

“No, she’s JEALOUS.” I really believe that she is.

“She is not.”

“Yes she is. She wants you all to herself.” I’ve always told him this because any time I even snuggle up to him, Madea is there pushing her nose in the middle, whining—and she’s REALLY loud.

“Oh great spin there, Pam.”

“You’re the best spinner, Beckel.” That brought forth a huge laugh from him because he watches The Five and the one co-host, Bob Beckel, can really tick him off. I guess it’s a good thing WE can joke around!

Anyway, I sure hope that nagging bone of his (which means he has 207 bones) is better by Saturday because those Arborvitaes have been sorely neglected and look like hell. I told him on the patio, during our cigarette break, “If you don’t trim the Arborvitaes, I’m hiring a landscaper.”

 “If you do THAT, you won’t have money for Darbie and Ben’s shit.”

“Oh, but I will, because I’ll use MY money for their stuff and YOUR money for the landscaping.”

 “I thought it was OUR money.”

“Cigarette break is over. Time to get back to the movie!” I returned to the game room and un-paused Cowboys and Aliens, the movie we were watching from On-Demand. The conversation was soon forgotten, but my honey-do list sure wasn’t—it’s getting longer and longer, so he better get that nagging bone fixed and quick or pay a landscaper bill.

 Knowing him like I do, he’ll fix the nagging bone—I just hope he doesn’t fix it by sending me to live with my mom and dad. Although, my dad did tell him, “no trade backs”, so maybe I’m safe.