Husband is the cinnamon on my French Toast, the down in my pillow and the sweet, foamy underside of my hot chocolate marshmallow. I love him more today than I did yesterday and the same will be true tomorrow.
But if he keeps losing Tofino on every walk, I will seriously consider surgically attaching the two of them together, creating a single, glorious Franken-Glenn/Tofino who is both brilliant AND an idiot at the same time. See if I don't.
Tofino is actually very intelligent, it's just a peculiar and highly focused intelligence. Like a physicist who can push the boundaries of understanding of the Universe further than ever before, but can't remember to put the bins out on garbage day, Tofino can figure out how to open the fridge door but often forgets how stairs work.
To be fair, Husband can play just about any song by ear on almost any instrument but once got lost inside a fitted sheet for an entire afternoon.
(I know we went through this phase with Jesse, who was perfect and therefore exempt from all societal expectations of obedience, recall or flatulence. And I know we went through this with Meeker, who is a beautiful freak and nearly always comes back right away now sometimes. That is not the point. They've earned the right to be considered cheeky. Tofino still owes me $389.00 in shoes alone before I'm prepared to think of her as anything other than a garburator with a pulse.)
I am just endlessly puzzled by Husband, who can build a television out of a box of graham wafers and an old boot, as he consistently forgets from one day to the next that Tofino has the approximate cruising speed of a ballistic missile and can detect the smell of a mouse fart from 8 km away. Often before the car has come to a stop in the parking lot of the dog park.
I should acknowledge that sometimes Husband does remember these things about Tofino, and those are the days he ties her to the handlebars of his bike.
No comments:
Post a Comment