Monday, July 21, 2014

THE 43-YEAR WAR

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You’ve heard of the Hundred Year War, which didn’t take a hundred years, now there is something called the 43-Year War WHICH DOES FEEL LIKE 100 YEARS. This war has been fought daily, ground given and taken, inch by inch, it is the marital war of the century, and no one has won, although most of the battles are ceded by one side.

That war of which I speak occurs within the confined of my house, bedroom and den, and even plays out in the car. Now you will understand that wars of this nature would play out differently, not based on philosophy, but on the room temperature!

I’m HOT, and she’s COLD, the makings for a real war!

It usually starts early in the AM, as I check on the pool, the lawn and put out to the curb what needs to go there. I leave the sliding door open and the screen in place. It is about 68º F and she is right behind me, closing it: “I’m cold!”

If we are in the car on a cool day, not cold or uncomfortable, I get: “Put on the heart, I’m cold.” Of course!

Then I see other women and they do the very same thing! It’s 98º F out and we are going to dinner. What does she do? Why take a sweater! Of course, and what do I see in the restaurant, they are all wearing sweaters and the husbands are dying to get cool, it’s one of life’s mysteries.

In the evening, when I retire from a long sweaty day, I look forward to the air-conditioned bedroom, the cool sheets and the relief of all the daily roasting. You know who comes up and I have to watch as she raises the temperature in the ac.

Keep your eyes opened in the obituaries, my name will be there with the explanation or cause of death: ‘HE DROWNED IN HIS OWN SWEAT!’

A man joined the priesthood.  The order he joined could not speak for seven years.  Then they could only say 2 words.

The first seven years passed and they went into a small room.  His 2 word were "too cold".

The next seven years passed and they took him back into the small room and his 2 words were "bad food".

The next seven years passed they took him back into the small room and his 2 words were "I quit".

"Good," they said, "all you have done is complain."

 Birth Injury Guide



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