Something Not to Do 9

Yesterday, I was chatting with Cavitation, and he told me a very interesting story. When I got home, I related it to my wife.

Me, CherkyB: "Cavagnaro was telling me today about how stressed out he was over his move, and"

The Mrs.: "Cavagnaro or Cavitation?"

Me, CherkyB: "OK, Cavitation."

The Mrs.: "I can't keep everyone's name straight."

Me, CherkyB: "[sigh]"

Me, CherkyB: "Anyways, he was telling me about how there was tons of paperwork, and he has to spend all day on the phone with all the relocation people, and now he's gotta deal with fixing everything the buyers of his house here found in their home inspection, and it's all very stressful."

Me, CherkyB: "I asked if when he's really stressed like that does his wife start in about what a big mistake the move was, and how she can't believe he's making the family leave here for a temporary assignment in a third world country away from all their family and friends just so they can go through this all over again in two years, and how this is all his creation so he better shut up and deal with it?"

Me, CherkyB: "And he said, 'No. When my wife sees I'm stressed, she says, "What can I do to help you?"'"

Me, CherkyB: "And I said, 'Hmmm...that actually can happen?' "

The Mrs.: "You said that out loud, or you thought that?"

Me, CherkyB: "I thought that. I try to keep up appearances in real life."

The Mrs.: "OK."

Now, fast forward about two hours. We're having a conversation while cleaning up the dinner dishes. I suddenly come to a realization, "I know why you are all pissy about the quality of my blog. It was PMS weekend this weekend, wasn't it?"

Then, a couple minutes later, The Mrs. says somewhat sarcastically to me, "What can I do to help you?"

To which I reply with no pause whatsoever, "Are your gums bleeding?"

That, my dear readers, would be Something Not to Do.™

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