Friday, October 10, 2008

The Wrath of My Wife

It's sort of like a scene from "The Birds".

This is one of the main reasons my wife hates me. It's not my poor performance in the bedroom, or my lackluster earning skills. It's not that I have a whole other "blog" full of pictures I took of her losing at Settlers of Catan. No. She hates me because I have dominated the top shelf of the refrigerator with soda bottles.

Every couple of days she hollers at me about it, usually taking me by surprise. Maybe while sleeping or crossing an intersection, the latter clearly calculated to cause my demise. Every meal together she'll dig out a bottle and plunk it down in front of me. "Drink it!" I calmly explain that I can't drink a bottle casually sitting at a meal, I have to take my stupid photos and then write down my reactions. If I don't write them down right quick I forget, and all these valuable witticisms are lost out of the top of my thinning pate. Sadly, the more my hair thins the less patience she has for my foolish doings.

Looking at the photo of the shelf, I can see that I have some sort of aversion to green and orange sodas. Seriously, look at that. I drank all the red ones, most of the brown ones, the clear ones. That green on in the middle left with the three antlered slug on the label IS a scary one, I've been dreading it since I brought it home. One day we'll square off, but not soon enough for my wife.

The worst thing about this shelf full of soda, according to my wife, is that I have added to the mass of my collection instead of decreased it. I buy new sodas to try, and don't drink them before I get into the apartment - a certain sin in her eyes.

The worst thing in my wife is that she can tell when I put new bottles on the shelf. Even if I'm sneaky she can sense it. I'll put bottles in the back, out of sight, carefully hiding any sign of rearranging and she'll walk into the kitchen and be yelling at me before she even opens up the refrigerator.

I swear she's a witch.

The Compendium Malificarum says that witches are only allowed to practice their craft with the permission of God. Of course, God also says that we should not suffer a witch to live. Unfortunately, I don't think I can take my wife in a fair fight so I'm a little stumped. Maybe if I save all my bottles and fill them full of rocks, that will give me an edge.

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