...center of the known universe is in my crotch

So I was sitting on the couch last night, minding my own business, watching Alton Brown, since it was around 7pm. My old lady came and sat down next to me. It was nice. I believe I said something wildly entertaining about jelly rolls or cinnimon buns or something, but got no response. I looked to me right, where my old lady was and she did not look especially happy, and when I say she did not look especially happy I really mean she looked mean and unhappy. I looked away. I looked back. In my tenderest, most sympathetic, loving and understanding voice I asked her if something was wrong.
She turned towards me and spit in my eye (SHE SPIT IN MY EYE, MAN!!! SHE SPIT IN MY FUCKING EYE!!!).
"Look Asshole," she started, "why don't you go to hell!!! I don't want to talk right now, m'kay?!?!"
I looked away.
I sat quietly and didn't move, let the spittle run down my face. I tried not to pout. I am pretty sure I didn't. I tried to act normal. When a commercial came on I went and hid in the kitchen, ate some chocolate, drank some Airborne. When the commercial was over I tip-toed back into the livingroom and gingerly sat my ass on the couch. Did the same thing on the next commercial.
I don't remember what Alton was doing (oh, yes I do, he was making pot-stickers, yum!) because I was busy thinking about what I could possibly have done. The list was long and full of paranoia.
Maybe I didn't help out enough around the house, was my first thought.
Maybe she has a thorn in her paw and can't get it out.
Maybe she is going to leave me for someone cuter and more successful and with a more fantastic package than me (yeah, right).
Maybe she spent all our money on orphans or midgets or firefighters or orphan midget firefighters and is trying to figure out how to tell me.
Uh, maybe this and maybe that... it went on and on.
Time passed and we got the kids ready for bed and I was all paranoid that maybe I should get them ready and in bed and stuff so as not to piss her off any further... but she did it (I helped by using commanding words on the kids)...
I was super sleepy at this point and wanted to go to bed, but there was laundry to fold and other stuff to be done that I didn't want to do, but if you have read this far you probably can guess that I figured that I should do something more... but I decided to go to bed anyhow.
I stood around indecisively, trying to make my move for the soft comfy bed, I decided to go for broke and appologize for being an asshole and not helping out enough.
"Sorry I didn't help out more around the house." I said, "I will try not to ruin your evening again by being a lazy good for nothing asshole."
She looked at me like I was a complete moron.
"You think I am mad at you, don't you!" she hissed at me.
"Yes." I muttered back at her with puppy dog eyes all eyeing the floor.
"You think you are ultimately responsible when I am unhappy, don't you?" she hurled at me.
"Well, yes." I mumbled (because I already muttered earlier).
"So, when I am happy it is all because of you also, huh?" she asked with some sort of emotion that I can't come up with a word for.
"Of course." I answered...
I proceeded to try to explain to her about how the universe revolves around me by making circle motions around my head indicating that the universe eminates out from my head into the infinate beyond. My head being the center of the known universe... So if someone around me is unhappy it is obviously that my universe is not functioning properly... If someone is happy, though, it is generally just an accident... I believe I actually told her that, yes, if she is happy it is also because of me, because I am of the opinion that it is my job in life to try and make her happy and safe and secure...
The funny thing is that she believes that she is the only one capable of making herself happy or unhappy... Heh, just heh... I guess my moves are pretty sublime, eh?
But really, yeah, I generally believe that if someone is unhappy around me that either:
A) I pissed them off or did something to make them unhappy.
B) I need to do something to make them happy or assist them in making themselves happy (as I have been explained, noone can make anyone else happy, they have to make themselves happy).
And it is probably true, assist is a better word than make, but you know, I am hard coded to respond in situations where there is unhappiness or bad vibes floating around... First instinct is to hide, to be honest. Second instinct is to compensate. Third is to actually take some sort of action.
Where did this leave me last night? My wife laughed at me (I prefer to think that I made her happy again) and told me not to piss her off again tomorrow. I can live with that.

Editors Note:
I took some creative license with these events. There was no actual spitting involved and I don't recall ever actually having been called an asshole by my lovely wife. Or being spit at by her.
The part about the universe eminating from my general head area is not actually completely honest. It actually eminates from my crotchal aread... it's all about the crotch area...

Editors Note Also:
I had words with my brother-in-law yesterday and he mentioned that he and his wife had wondered how it is that I can be so damn supportive and fantastic to my wife and let her do so many things... I think I said "I don't know" to him but mentioned this to my wife and told her that if I appear to be so it is because I love her and want her to be happy and fulfilled... just thought I would mention that...

Editors Note for Yesterday:
It was noted that there was only 1 midwife at the little vikings birth.
That may be a matter of words, though... There was the doula.. There was the midwife, who was the wife of a chiropractor... and there was her student, who was blond and canadian and didn't appear to be wearing a bra... and the mother-in-law... and Bob Marley... for real...

Spilling the beans...

The big secret...
Well, since I am apparently not capable of keeping this secret, I am going to just let it see the light of day, right here, right now...
So, this person who told me the secret, it is a girl... She was driving home in the dark and rain a few weeks ago (probably a month or so now) and she picked up a hitchhiker. She does not normally do this, but he was hispanic (I can't tell you why that matters) and she felt sorry for him, standing there in the dark rainy night.
Anyhow, so this dude gets in her car and they get to talking. Turns out he is an upstanding member of the community, donates his time and efforts to El Centro de la Raza (say it with me, El Centro de la Raza) and local childrens hospitals... He had a sexy latino accent (she told me) and she was not really paying attention to the road.
Suddenly there was a big bump, BAM, like they had hit something. She stopped, backed up, and hit something again, like going over a curb, you get the picture. So she was kinda freaked out, it was quiet, except for the sound of the rain. She stared straight ahead. The kind latino gentlemen tried to comfort her, told her it was probably a dog or a cat (hopefully a cat). He told her to sit still and he would get out and take a look. He was about to get out of the car when he paused, just for a moment. He looked at her, right in the eyes, and told her that although they had only known each other for a very short time, he felt they had made a connection, and was pretty sure that he was falling in love with her already, and he hoped she felt the same way...
She got all teary eyed and her heart started pounding and she almost forgot about having hit something. They stared at each other for a moment, he smiled and got out of the car. She started thinking of the possibilities, what her life could be like with the last name Sanchez...
She watched him get out and go to the front of the car. When he got there he stopped and stared. He just stood there looking and looking. He moved forward a step. Then another. He bent over so she could barely see him then kinda straightened up and looked through the rainy windshield at her... He had this look on his face, really hard to describe (she told me) then he bent over again and she could barely see him but it looked like he was trying to pick something up... She could see him struggling and she was scared. He moved this way and that and all of a sudden he stood up. She could see he had something in his hands, something kinda big, but not too big, it was hard to see, she turned on her windshield wipers a little higher, he turned towards her, kinda lost his grip on whatever it was he was holding, she could see it wiggling a little bit... He got a better grip on it and kinda heaved it up and turned towards her... She got her first good look at it...
It was a midget...
She jumped, her foot came off the brakes, she slammed her foot back down as the car started rolling forward, she missed the brake, hit the gas, the car shot forward, there were 2 thumps as she ran over the midget and her new love... the front wheels went over just fine, but the back wheels got stuck somehow so there was this sickening squeeling of tires on concrete and flesh, suddenly they caught and she shot forward... She was crying and was kinda hysterical, cause that is how she gets... she just kept on driving, went on home...
She got home and started walking to the front of the car, then stopped, wasn't sure what she might see there, mabye a little midget hand or tiny little shoe or something... but there was nothing... no damage, no loose pieces of cloth, nothing...
She started thinking that she had to do something, she had to come clean, but she couldn't... what would people say? what would they think of her? Her life would be ruined... So she hatched a plan... she went in the garage and got a shovel out, and a box of garbage bags, and a bottle of Arbor Mist (Strawberry White Zinfandel)... She hatched a plan...
She got back in her car and headed back...
It was dark, rainy, very little traffic on the road... probably noone noticed or witnessed... She would wrap them up in plastic, shove them in her trunk, go out the Valley or down by the river, dig a big hole and bury them... she would cover her tracks, it would be her big deep dark secret... noone would miss a midget, yo, and she would always have her dreams of what might have been with the last name Sanchez... She drove on back to where she thought they should be, and kept driving, there was nothing there, so she went a little farther, watching for people walking on the side of the road... She turned back around and retraced her steps... Nothing... nothing...
Up and down the road she went, drinking her Arbor Mist straight from the bottle, crying hysterically and peeing herself a little bit... She got out and walked the road where she thought it happened, looking for clues, but there was nothing, no little footprints, no drag marks, nothing... They were GONE!!!
So she went home and slept... called in sick to work the next day... She drove the road again but it looked normal, no nothing that would ever lead anyone to imagine that something had happened...
She was ready to believe (herself) that maybe she imagined the whole thing, made the whole thing up like a daydream... and she almost convinced herself, but... but... she could smell him, Mr. Sanchez... well, she wasn't sure his name actually was Sanchez, but that is what she imagined her name would be when they got married... sigh... but she could smell him in her car... it smelled good... it made her head spin... it made her heart ache...
She doesn't know what happened to them, but she started getting strange calls... tiny little raspy voice on the other end, calling her a bitch and stuff... and tiny little limpy drag marks outside her house in the dirt, like a gimpy little midget has been walking around, draggin his now useless limb... He will never play in the midget world cup... will never win a race in the midget olympics...
And she swears, she swears, when the wind blows just right, she can smell the man, and the wind seems to whisper to her... it whispers "why??? Why??? I loved you!!!" and sometimes it whispers "ouch"...
So that is what she told me, she made me promise that I would never tell... I promised on someting important, I can't remember what, and to be honest I am a bit worried about what might happen to whatever I promised on now that I have blabbed it all...
I tried to tell her that, you know, running over a midget, no harm no foul... they are used to being run over, those little people... and if she really wanted to she could go down to El Centro and see if her man is there and try to make it up to him, explain that she got scared and went back and stuff, but she said no... She especially made me promise not to ever (EVER) tell anyone that she peed herself a little... she is REALLY embarassed about that... peeing herself...
I told her not to worry about it... Then of course told my wife... thats a given...
Then Kitten Chow seduced the secret out of me that one night... I still feel cheap and used over that...
Oh, then I had to tell ADO because she was giving me a ride home and I felt obligated somewhat so I just kinda spilled the beans...
Sorry about that...