IL BACIO

The Kiss 

Every evening when TLW (The Little Woman) returns from the Wanna-Be Bank & Truss Company, she and I greet each other with a peck on the lips. This is customary and unless she is mad at me for something, an everyday occurrence.

In this routine we developed from watching Father Knows Best, or maybe Leave It To Beaver, the practice is done so that I am used to the taste of her lipstick (Midnight Madness), and so I think nothing of it. One night it all changed!

Coming into the door, the look of a bored member of the working force, TLW marched into the kitchen and looking at the mail gave me the rudimentary kiss on the lips, which tasted like I kissed the muffler of a Mercedes Benz, after fueling up with diesel oil.

Me: “What did you do, put kerosene on your lips!?”

TLW: “Yes, I’m trying to poison you.” (From watching the Honeymooners)

Me: “Oh, I thought so,”

TLW: “Any calls today?”

Me; “Just one from Poison Control Center, checking up on me.” (The Honeymooners have marathons sometimes)

After 43 years of marriage, you get 43 years of sarcasm, without really trying. It seems that when couples grow older, they tend to expect that trust is always in the works, that anything less is to be treated with that old balm: Sarcasm. I remember both my in-laws and my parents both treating each other to sarcasm, it is an expressive way to stay married without rancor or insult: you take it on the chin and if you are still standing, give it back.

Mom used to chase Dad with her wooden spoon and Dad would run, usually around the table until Mom got tired, we laughing in the background and Dad with a silly grin on his face, while Mom was just feeling good about things as Dad fled.

I recall once many years ago my grandma Frances was combing my hair as I stood on a chair, and Dad saying something sarcastic to Grandma that got him a shoe tossed right on his head. I thought it funny, and Mom was delighted when I told her about it.

I never knew Grandma was that skillful!