Perilous Love

My wife is a klutz, Bob bless her. Not your garden variety trips over things on occasion type klutz, mind you, but olympic gold medal class klutz. She never met an object she couldn't careen into. Not only is she personally klutzy, but she is surrounded by an electromagnetic klutz field that causes OTHER people to drop things for no apparent reason other than they were in her presence. I think I have built up an immunity of sorts to her influence over the years as it doesn't seem to effect me near as much as strangers. Although I honestly think she runs into stuff that's nailed down to one place forever, if ANYTHING is moved a fraction of an inch, she will blunder into it. She is a shoe salesperson, and always running back and forth trying to keep up with customers, and she is so focused on her task at hand that she is totally oblivious to her surroundings, thus her surroundings are constantly getting in her way, especially if racks and tables get moved.

Now, it wouldn't be so bad in the overall scheme of things if it wasn't for the fact that she bruises so easily. If I look at her too hard, without those goo-goo eyes, of course, she will bruise. The woman is covered in them. And this is a problem for ME. Yes.....ME. I can see it now; wife gets into an accident, shows up in ER in unconscious state, nurse notices bruises all over body not connected to said accident......well....you get my drift. Next thing I know, I get a call, I rush to the hospital, and before I can find where my wife is, officer friendly and his cohort officer unfriendly take me aside and ask me if I'd answer a few questions. My only saving grace is that the kids and all her coworkers know what a klutz she is, but I honestly don't want to spend a night in a cell with large people who like small people for rather terrifying reasons while the cops investigate this obvious case of domestic abuse.

I HAVE considered having a cover story ready; that me and the wife enjoy an alternative lifestyle, but knowing my luck, I would probably end up admitting to violating about 17 archaic laws without even having had the pleasure of actually violating them, not that I or the wife are really into that kind of thing, if you know what I mean.....hehe.

My most memorable encounter with her klutz field was when we first moved into our double wide mansion. The steps hadn't been brought in yet, and we wanted to get in to look around right after the house had been hauled out to the lot and the two halves mated. So, I get the door open, then I get behind her to help her up to the door which is something like two and a half feet off the ground. So, of course, her foot slips off the threshold and is thrust by her downward momentum in between the aluminum slates that are installed between the bottom of the home and the ground. So here she is, stuck up to her thigh between two very thin and sharp sheets of aluminum, me holding her butt trying to keep her from falling backwards and slicing off the leg, all the while she's laughing so hard she pees her pants, which means she's peeing on ME, and I'm trying to overcome my own terror AND laughter at our delicate situation and still keep her from getting cut. Well, we both survived it with no great injury, other than my wet hands and lap and her wet jeans. And of course that whole leg was black and blue for weeks afterward.

She works late tonight and will probably share her new bruises with me while we are resting on the couch before we retire to bed for the night. I grouse and make faces and waste oxygen demanding she watch where she's going, she replies she can't help it, those tables keep jumping out in front of her. Just like we have for the last twelve years and probably will till she retires. And probably ever after.