The Bear

When I was young, the kind of shitheads I used to hang around said things like: “I can’t see being married and waking up next to the same woman every day.”

I’ve been married for nearly 30 years. Legally and by DNA, it might be the same person, but she’s definitely not the same woman.

I’m not saying the differences are good or bad (some are and some aren’t) but she is never “the same”.

Shakespeare listed the 7 ages of man (or something like that), but there must be 57 ages of woman. Every time I wake up from a nap she’s doing or saying something I thought I would never hear. Last night she told me I could buy any kind of a car “I want.” Holy shit, that was not the women I met in 1984 — buying a car was a two-year planning process with new negotiations every month. For 25 years, we ended up with a Honda or a mini-van. Eventually, we just bought a Honda mini-van.

In the current “age of wife”, it’s simple things I have no idea how she will react to: “Where should we go to dinner? Can I take part of the weekend to cycle with my friends out of town…” Almost 30 years together, and It’s like living with a bear — completely unpredictable.

Sometimes my bear will share her honey, or she might just take a swipe at my face with one of her giant paws.

She’s never actually physically hit me (there was that one time in 1985, but she was still asleep — that will be a different post) and I’m pretty damn sure she never will….maybe – there is always that little bit of fear.

I blame the fear on that fucking Investigation Discovery channel. It has given her hours and hours of examples of exactly how to kill.

“Wives with Knives” and other shit shows are like an Al-qaeda training ground for American wives. She screams back at the TV, “you gotta get rid of the body – they can’t prosecute you if there’s no body — rookie mistake”. Then she gives me that sideways glance that says: “I’m picturing you dead right now.”

I can tell I’m not alone, every commercial on that network is feminine napkins, makeup or some shit no guy would ever buy. So you know there are millions of other bears sitting at home plotting the demise of their insignificant spouse.

You would think surviving 30 years together would build confidence, but there’s always that small chance the bear will turn on you. Remember that guy in Alaska who lived with grizzlies? I’m sure he thought he was their friend right up to the second they started eating him.

So no my shithead old friends, you won’t wake up with the same “woman” your entire life.  But you better have your shit together or the Bear will do what the fucking Investigation Discovery channel tells her to do.

32 thoughts on “The Bear

  1. Every Sunday morning I watch forensic shows with my coffee. Lobster stumbles out of bed to find me engrossed in my shows with a shit-eating grin on my face. He knows I’ve already figured out whodunit. He knows I could do it better. I love Sunday.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Yup. Totally agree. After 36 years it’s an adventure.

    The wife said she wants to get a gun for protection. I said no way, as long as she is waking up in the middle of the night having conversations with people who aren’t there, seeing bears, and spiders the size of bears on the wall, it’s not going to happen. Who knows what she sees when she looks over at me. She watches those shows too…wives who kill their husbands ( yes, plural). I have started to log down the conversations I have with her when she is stone cold asleep as well as things she sees, just in case I wake up dead. I told my daughter about the incidents and log, just in case.

    Other than the (stay alert moments) it’s been a good ride, especially since she keeps making these crazy school teacher friends. They are all very “special”. Ha!

    Liked by 1 person

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