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July 05, 2005

Spontaneity

We were sitting in the living room, lights off, except for the always on lamp with a low watt bulb tossing a gentle light across the ceiling. The kids were scattered across the room, some playing with toys, some actually watching the movie. It's rare for my wife to actually sit through a movie, so I was enjoying the event. It was an old movie that I'd somehow described well enough to pique her interest.

The leading man grabbed the leading woman, swinging her back, and planted a big kiss on her. I waited, knowing what would come.

“Why can't you kiss me like that?”

“Like what"”

“Like that -- spontaneous. That's so romantic. Why can't you be romantic like that?”

I knew better than to argue. She was caught up in the romance of the movie, larger than life, and mourning that her life wasn't like a movie with tall dashing men, fun trips to exotic European cities in old roadsters. I could see, in the dim light, her bottom lips give that little cringe that meant she was wallowing in a momentary blue funk of ennui.

The movie went on, carrying her with it, and she soon forgot her melancholy as the story carried her along.

It was a while before I found the opportunity to try to please her desire for spontaneity. She was doing laundry, standing by the washer and dryer folding clothes and didn't hear me approach. I grabbed her, spun her around, dipped her over and planted a kiss on her...rock hard lips, clenched in fright. Her arms flailed and her eyes wide in fear. I let her up and she took a few seconds to catch her breath then turned to scold me.

“Don't scare me like that! You could at least warn me when you're going to do something like that.”

“But, I thought...”

“You never think about other people, just leap right in with no thought for how much that might scare someone.”

“But, you said...”

“Goodness feel my heart beating. You about gave me a heart attack. You don't just grab someone like that. What in the world were you thinking?”

By that time I figured the question was more or less rhetorical. She turned back to her laundry with a stern frown across her face. I tried to slip away before she got angrier.

“Why do you insist on being so spontaneous like that. Don't you know women like dependability?”

[My wife insists I note that this is slightly embellished]

Posted by Danny Carlton at July 5, 2005 06:27 PM

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Comments

Hey, we can't win. That doesn't mean we don't keep trying.

Posted by: greg at July 5, 2005 08:50 PM

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