Shenanigans.
Something
isn’t right. It feels set up and arranged. I don’t know what’s
going on, but I sense it, and I think I know the members of the
group that do not what’s happening.
The
accusation is made. Shenanigans. There, I said it.
I’m
thinking Emmie, Canasta and Karen are working together on this.
Plus, I’m pretty sure what is going on moves a few levels beyond
your basic shenanigans.
If
I’m right, there are cahoots afoot. And as you know, you have
to be careful when working around cahoots.
My
plan was to sneak in, claim a comfortable spot on the couch, somehow
take control of the remote for the television, and then guide
the quiet evening into a relaxing night where I made the first
suggestions of what to watch.
Yes,
I had plans. Presenting myself as perfectly innocent in my own
intentions might not exactly be applicable. But…
Karen
was doing something with her tablet. Could have been some type
of marble madness game and it could have been social media. Might
have involved work or some detailed investigation into a weekend
away. By all evidence available, she was distracted by something.
That seemed innocent enough.
Step
aside moment. Anyone with a puppy or a child knows that quiet
equals mischief. Almost universally without exception, if the
house is quiet, there is trouble developing.
Karen
may have looked innocent enough sitting there. I, so to speak,
smelled smoke.
What
if I told you both of the dogs were also on the couch and there
was no place for me? Now, on the surface, that also seems perfectly
acceptable. The three girls all settling in and selecting their
spots long before arrived. Tough luck, Bob.
How
about if I added that there were cookie crumbs on the comforter
covering the couch? Cookie crumbs right next to Emmie and Canasta.
Cookie crumbs as if they were offered a treat, right there on
the couch.
Well,
if I added that, it would actually be a lie. There were no cookie
crumbs. It’s kind of fun to think there may have been some type
of bribery involved. A real deep dive into payoffs and silent
partnerships. But I’ve got nothing there.
Instead,
any person that is part of a couple and has a dog or dogs understands
the wink, wink, nudge, nod realities. An unspoken statement: “We’re
comfortable. We’re happy. You dragged your feet and got here late.
Snooze. Lose. Your problem. Now, you’re blocking the TV, please
move.”
About
all that’s missing is a request for some chips or cookies and
perhaps a drink. It feels very obvious to the person without a
place to sit, and it connects in a realization during the walk
to the kitchen to gather the snack, that some arrangements had
been made.
Cahoots.
If
you want to know who’s in charge of your relationship, as you
leave the living room to prepare a cheese platter and a glass
of wine for your significant other, look back at the couch. See
the person sitting on it? See the dogs on it? They’re in charge.
Nothing
wrong with that. I’ll be the first to admit—candidly and honestly—I
like the girls being in charge in our home. Less decisions for
me to make. Point me in a direction and let’s go, because I already
know we’re going to have a blast doing whatever it is. They take
great care of me, pay attention to my needs, and I have plenty
of opportunities to do the things I want to do. We’re good. No
worries at all.
Still,
you know those joke situations based around an idea where the
folks in charge design everything that’s going to happen but they
let the person that isn’t in charge think they made the decisions?
Occasionally I get the feeling that I set off to do something,
leaving Karen, Emmie and Canasta behind silently saying “just
like we planned it” with exchanged glances behind my back.
Cahoots.
Cahoots
and Moscato. I think she wanted some crackers, that new cheddar
we wanted to try and a glass of Moscato.
~ ~
~ ~ ~
Writer’s
note: Humor people. Humor.
This
piece was designed in fun, and is not some sort of cry for help
or formed out of a desire for someone to bring me a piece of cake.
Even
if I would like a piece of cake.
I
just didn’t have a place on the couch last night, and the whole
thing kind of exploded from there.
(Damn,
now I want cake.)
Things
are fine, everything is good, and I have an equal say in every…
uh oh… we’re out of wine.
That’s
not good. Wish I had some cake to distract her when I don’t bring
back any wine.
Gotta
go.