But, never the less, he thinks I'm out to kill him. One might wonder what would give him this horrific idea? Am I perhaps trying to poison him? (Easy on the cooking jokes here!) No. Am I trying to electrocute him? No. Am I trying to stab, shoot, or strangle him? No, no, and no. (Although, occasionally he does make me wanna strangle him . . .)
No folks, the method I'm apparently using to do him in is: shoes. Shoes, bookbag, roller skates . . . sometimes the vacuum, just depends. I have a terrible tendency to leave shoes most likely on the bathroom floor or in the bedroom at the end of the bed . . . and since Jamie usually goes to bed after me, it can be a little treacherous for him to make it to his side of the bed in the dark. It's no picnic for me either to awaken from a dead sleep to a to a tall, dark figure lurking around my bedroom: THUD, stumble, stumble, EXPLETIVE! I tried to help him out with a nightlight, but he kept unplugging it saying he couldn't sleep w/ it on, and I have gotten much better since I've gotten rid of so much clutter to move.
But then the other night all of the lights are on and Jamie is walking through the TV room when he kicks the dog bowl (which lay empty and had been shoved toward the middle of the floor by the dogs), and trips forward. He turns around to look at the bowl, then gives me a glare: "Are you trying to kill me?" First, the dogs put that bowl there. Second, there are so many lights on right now you could probably see that bowl from the Hubble. Third, I have some theories of my own: I'm kindof thinking that maybe you're just a little clumsy or perhaps too tall to actually see all the way down to the floor, or my personal fav theory your feet are just clownishly large . . . Whatever the reason, it is my solemn vow that I'm not trying to kill Jamie. I mean I watch CSI, I would never get away with it. How would I hide the body? I mean I can't even lift an 80lbs bag of concrete!
|Jamie and Me|