Thursday, July 24, 2008

She Be Cranky

Having been up until two in the morning after my work computer contracted the Trojan Vundo virus (I swear it wasn't my fault) I slept in. I was pensive though. Normally when I'm all alone, after the wife and the little lump called Emmett—otherwise known as our son and the thrasher—get up before me I stretch out and have my best dreams. Not on this day. My brain was all whirls, clanks and thunks, working on a game plan. How was I going to break it to my boss?

Best, I thought, to be a man. Just own up to it and get it over with.

So when she walked in to the bedroom, I blurted, "Honey, my computer has a virus."

She stopped and glared at me from the foot of the bed. Lips taut. "A virus." Not a question, an accusation.

"Yeah, a pretty bad one too."

"On your work computer. Because of that software you downloaded?!"

Across my field of vision scrolled a list of responses from which to choose, but none with the impact necessary to divert this conversation from the waterfall toward which it was heading.

I opted for blather.

And as I relayed the circumstances of my terrible tragedy she turned up her nose and went into our bathroom and shut the door behind her.


This called for something drastic, some token of my enduring love. That's when it hit me. The replacement outdoor light! It was sitting in a box, in the garage, where it had been for a month now. I popped out of bed and jumped into my shorts. I had a purpose as I descended, step by gigantic man-step, into the basement for my toolbox, then up again and into the garage and through the side door.

She watched with a wary eye from her flower garden—where she goes to be alone—as I handed her one of the wireless phones and said in my handyman, Johnny-On-The-Spot voice (think Gaston from Beauty and the Beast), "Tell me when the light goes out."

As I headed to the breaker box, I tried the phone, "Can you hear me?"

A brief pause, then, "Yup."

Audible. Monosyllabic, but a start.

When I clicked off the right breaker switch she said, "That's it."

Two syllables. Even better.

"Thanks," I said, but the line was already dead.

She had relocated by the time I got back outside. I prefer to be alone anyway. Less pressure that way, because I tend to blunder through these things, and I prefer to experience these journeys alone and let others see the polished final product.

Just as I was wrapping it up, I stumbled and stepped on her new Azalea bush. It snapped like a dead twig. I picked at the branches and it came completely off, broken at the nub. I saw my life flash before my eyes. She loves that bush, and was so proud when she put it in.

So I did what any good husband would do and carefully put the branches back into the dirt and propped it up like nothing ever happened. It was perfect. She didn't notice a thing as she admired the newly installed light. She was so happy.

And as with all little fights that we have, there came the moment of confession. She told me, "I was a little mad about that virus."

"I know."

"You did? But how?"

"I'm instinctive that way."

She smiled. "That computer is your livelihood, our livelihood. You can't be taking chances like that."

"I know. But you have to keep in mind that I am a gambler by nature, and a lot of what we have today was gained because of that willingness to take chances. I just made a mistake, one that won't be repeated."

And so the make-up dance went back and forth for a few more rounds, and we were a happy couple again.

But there was still the lingering issue of the Azalea. What to do, what to do? I could go buy a new one, but it would have to be a close facsimile or the jig was up. That was the terminus of the Big Brain Express, so I asked her to take the kids with her to check out the new paint job a friend had just had done in her kitchen.

"Are you high?"

Ok, nix that plan. If I brought the kids with me, the little parakeets would be singing my death tome when she got back. There was nothing more to do about it, as the odds were remote that I could pull it off anyway.

"Uh, honey, I have a bit of a confession to make."

She was intrigued. "And that is?" she said dubiously.

"I stepped on your Azalea. It's broken."

"It looked fine to me," she said.

"That's because I propped it up to make it look ok."

"You what?!"

Then she burst out laughing.


Kaycie said...

That's priceless.

Bridget Jones said...

Yikes you're a brave man.

Tera said...

TRULY priceless!

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Heh heh!

Toni Anderson said...

Oh boy. I get monosyllabic too :)

Poor azalea bush! Sorry about the virus (scumsuckers), glad for the hints in how to get rid of the bugger though--just incase. I got myself a beautiful portable external hard drive from dell. It looks like a whiskey flask :)

Toni Anderson said...

PS. Like the new digs :)

Sheri said...

Oh I'm so glad you came clean and told her about the azalea. And all she did was laugh? I thought you would have been in the throws of round two!

Beth said...

Omg, I would have kicked your ass! Not for the virus, but for the azalea. Haha.

How'd you get a virus and didn't you already buy another computer for "play?" And if so, is it true if you have a router and get a virus on your play computer, it can go through your network to your work computer? That's what I was told.

Scott said...

Kaycie - Add to your blog so I can drop you a visit. Sometimes I don't reply here and just visit blogs.

Bridget - You don't have a blog?

Tera - Thanks!

Toast - Someday you'll understand, my friend.

Toni - I like the look of this a lot better than before. But it's still not perfect. I have to figure out how to do it myself.

Sheri - Me too. I thought I was a dead man.

Beth - I was downloading something that, let's just say, I wasn't supposed to be doing according to the law. To combat illegal downloading, some vendors I suspect put out their software packed with a virus just to let you know that you are playing with fire. I'm not sure about networked computers, but I think it is possible for one to spread throughout a network. That makes it doubly important for me not to be rolling the dice with my work computer, which is hooked via what is called VPN (virtual private network) to the network at my company, which for obvious reasons shall remain unnamed.

Minnesotablue said...

Scott: This post is hilarious.

Sarah Hina said...

I loved that, Scott! All the tensioned released with that last line (hey, you're good at those!). You really are a natural-born storyteller. :)

And I'm glad you came clean. Those little concealments only fester--and grow thorns. ;)

Scott said...

Thanks, Minnesota!

Sarah - Believe me, if I thought I had a chance at just replacing it, I would have. But it turned out better this way. She seems optimistic that since the roots are still in the ground that it will grow again, but I don't know...

Dixiebelle said...

Hey Scott, In regard to your comment about DK, I want to ask you something about the movie. Why did he not save Rachel? What did I miss? I thought he was going after her and Gordon after the DA. Did you see the comment a guy made on my post called Batman Weekend? I realized how he came to that conclusion after I saw the movie and I was thinking about that part.

Scott said...

If I had to guess as to why Batman said he was going after Rachael, it was probably a misdirection in case there were moles in the force. My guess as to why he went after the DA is that Batman cares about justice more than anything else in life. To say that he is gay is a bit shallow, in response to your commenter.

Tee said...

Ah, the careful dance of marriage relations. LOL. Loved this.

By the way - nice new template (new to me since I haven't been around at least.) Reading is much easier on the eyes... That black writing in the upper left of the design though - is that Arabic? If so, what does it say?

Scott said...

Tee - That's a very good question. I chose it for the asthetics (check that spelling). For all I know I'm advertising for Al Quaeda, and am now on the red flag lists at airports now.

Alan said...

But there was still the lingering issue of the Azalea. What to do, what to do? I could go buy a new one, but it would have to be a close facsimile or the jig was up. That was the terminus of the Big Brain Express, so I asked her to take the kids with her to check out the new paint job a friend had just had done in her kitchen.

"Are you high?"

And then you referred to your kids as "parakeets"

Awesome. So. Freaking. Good.

I get the sense that things are good at Chez Ellis.

Scott said...

Thanks, Alan. Things are good!

Tee said...

Hey Scott - You said the content was removed when you commented on my blog. Are you talking about the YouTube video I had posted? I just played it no problem. Here's a direct link. It's worth a listen. So hilarious!

Jada's Gigi said...

Aww love...ain;t it grand? :)

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

I've been there.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

..and thanks for hooking me up with Nichola. We had a great night. The City is a wonderfull place and I miss it already.