Hi y’all. Dale here. Mary’s husband. After weeks of being teased by my wife in her weekly column, I thought it was time to speak out. Do I mind Mary’s jokes about my gift-buying skills, my cooking, my nursing and my housecleaning? Not one bit. It take a lot more than that to ruffle my feathers.
My Mary Frances is a fine woman and a true Mother Hen. She takes people under her wing, she cares for everybody, she gives generously to others, and, yes, she rules the roost. Don’t you dare get water on her white kitchen floor! While I may have a reputation for being a tyrant at work, at home, I’m just happy to have a place to sit and a table where I can put my iced tea.
Truth is, my wife doesn’t have nearly as many faults as I do. I can’t pick on her except to say that she’s not the most patient woman. And, sometimes she pouts. For example, the other night she got angry at something I said. Later on, I could tell by the forceful way she was flipping the pages of her magazine that she was still madder than a wet hen. And, that time she heard strange noises out on the back deck, she made me get out of bed in the middle of the night to see what was going on. (Come to find out our neighbor’s farm animals had all escaped and there were goats on the deck and pigs and chickens in the yard!)
But, those tiny ‘faults’ are a small price to pay for all of the good times we have together. Take her friend’s wedding in Detroit, Michigan. When I met the bride’s uncle, a guy named Bob, I replied: “Damn, Bob! I bet you spell that backwards, don’t ya?” I proceeded to take his vodka gimlet and down it like a shot. “Drink a little, do you?”, asked Bob. “Now and then”, I replied.
That night, Mary and I drank Bob (a multimillionaire who made his fortune in fiber optics) and his wife (a beauty with a diamond ring so big you needed to wear a welding shield just to look at it) right under the table. Later that evening, I met their twin daughters, two gorgeous young chicks. Did Mary mind when I asked for a picture of me between the two of them? Not one bit. It takes a lot more than that to ruffle her feathers.
Happy Monday,
From Dale (and my beautiful wife, Mary)
Chickens in Bed Photo: Artist and Source Unknown
