|A Mystery Of Murderous Distortions (standard:humor, 901 words)|
|Author: Godspenman||Added: May 27 2017||Views/Reads: 435/210||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Being happy with yourself on the inside is much better than being happy with yourself on the outside.|
I do not want to alarm anyone – I'm not wound that tight – but there is a devious conspiracy in our country. A conspiracy of murderous distortions. To be quite honest about all this, I was not the first to notice this conspiracy. In fact, it is quite unusual for me to notice anything first. As all husbands know, the husband is the last to know . . . anything. It was the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage who first become aware of this conspiracy and brought it to my attention. Don't ask me how she does it, for I do not know. I just wish I knew her secret. My wife is the first to notice everything. Let me give a few examples. My wife was the first one to notice that we were going together as a couple. She was the first to notice that we were engaged to be married. She was the first to know that we were getting married and when. Back to the conspiracy. Several weeks ago, my wife and I took a few days off and stole away to the romantic town of St. Augustine for some R&R&R, (Rest, Relaxation and Reading) the three most important pursuits of mankind. I like St. Augustine because it is the only thing I know older than most of my neckties. Someone once said, “Either come apart and rest awhile or you will simply come apart.” As one who has come apart several times, I know it to be true. Therefore, my wife and I, just before “coming apart,” take off and get outta Dodge. One afternoon we decided to take in the local mall. I say “we” only in the loosest sense of the word. Personally, I would rather hit my thumb with a hammer than spend an afternoon at the mall. When you are as happily married as I am (knock on wood), there are those little sacrifices that must be made. That's just the kind of husband I am. The fact of the matter is, I joyfully accompanied my wife to the mall. About halfway through our afternoon at the mall, we sat down in a small coffee shop to enjoy a cup of Joe together. Nothing relaxes me more than spending $6 for a .59-cent cup of coffee. It was while we were enjoying our coffee that my astute wife made an observation. Actually, it struck me out of left field, if I can be honest about it. I was too busy grumbling about the cost of the coffee to take notice of what was happening around me at the time. “Look at those people,” my wife whispered confidentially to me. “Look at how they are dressed.” Frankly, I did not know what in the world she was referring to but I looked in the direction she was indicating. When it comes to fashion, I don't make a statement. My idea of fashion rests on two simple facts. Does it fit and can I afford it? I'm a rather happy-go-lucky kind of guy when it comes to clothing. Where in the Constitution of the United States does it say that a person has to wear matching socks? However, women, wives in particular, have a different sense about all this. “Why would anyone,” she continued, ignoring my blissful ignorance on the subject, “leave their home dressed like that?” Click here to read the rest of this story (47 more lines)
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