NP: Princess of a lot of stuff

[Glenn Scheper]

I hope I don't detract by so much NP stuff,
but you are good listeners, kind of family.

I was couching my phrases driving home:

If you ... else I ....

I am resolved....

I am fed up.

Your time (as a hater) is up. Either ...

But all of these only invite conversation.

At my last smoke break (out of the car),
only a mile from the house, I realized
that conversation only invites debate.

I decided 25 years of the flowery, and
sometimes not so flowery, fight, were
sufficient to establish, using all the
seeming applicable biblical comparisons,
that my wife is my enemy, my local satan.

After all, I saw the "666" on her bosum,
way back in 1980 or so, far before I lived
out the portion of Revelation correlating
to my experiences perceiving who is beast.

(But I sometimes counter that with the idea
of a personal specific salvatory cleansing,
moving her into the "What are these, ...?"
Revelation category.)

So I changed my mind to not entertain any
more dialog, but simply declare the end.

I almost decided, why bother to make any
declaration, just turn around, and start
up finding again a lawyer's retainer fee.
(I dropped 2000 before, before she won me
back. No wonder they want money up front.)

Then I decided I should at least go forth,
and explore whether an easy divorce could
be persued, which would raise our mutual
weal, versus that of the lawyers.

But there is always the opportunity for
misinterpretation. Biblical interpretation
seems like very modern aircraft design, in
which control surfaces are supercritical.
That is, they are not damped so as to turn
back to a neutral position if uncontrolled,
but flop over from one extreme to another.

So I decided on an opening sally, on the
one point in question, like, "Convince me
you are not the beast, that hates me."

All this work, despite I have read, "Do not
premeditate what you will say, but I will
put the words in your mouth."

By the time I arrived home, it came out as,
"Convince me that you love me." and I took
her surprised moment to offer a mere peck.

But she said, "No, you've been smoking."

So I put next the harder question, "Do you
want an easy divorce, or a hard divorce?"

Her daughter was still over, and they were
watching TV, so she said, "That's private
business, we'll talk about it later."

But the closet, un-scrutiny is the abode
of abuse, uncontrolled, a-social control.

I said, "It won't be a private matter when
you are gone; when you are not the Princess
of a lot of stuff." (She has a tapestry on
the master bedroom door of a queen on her
throne, attended by a gnome, with caption,
"Princess of a lot of stuff" -- Right next
to it is a sign saying "I have PMS and ESP.
That makes me the bitch that knows it all.")

So I gave her to think about it until after
I finished the yard work, and then I would
ask her again.

In the quiet of work, I felt the presence
of the Lord, that authoritative, but almost
unhearable silent voice, as we mulled over
the crucial points. I had vowed, no, it was
a covenant, because it contained a condition,
and the conditional was satisfied, that, "IF
You bring her back, I will love and keep her
forever." But I so often compare my bondage
to the King who sacrified his own daughter,
to satisfy his vow, when she was first out
to greet him back from his successful battle.
(Should he have kept his vow? Opinion differs.)

I pondered whether remaining was a lassitude,
inaction a failure. In light of all the facts,
wasn't the earlier vow done in ignorance, now
abrogatable? But, He did bring her back to me.
Surely, He has foreknowledge, so it was not
done in ignorance. Then He gave the way out...

When I was nearly done, my wife came out and
quietly started to apply her favorite grass
enhancement, a water-soluble fertilizer.

I said the yard looks good (my laud).

"Of course."

And the place she took manually removed the
crabgrass and reseeded is looking good (her
laud).

Now we both know the vacuity of words,
which I lay to their being explorations
of possiblilities, not always to reify.

In fact, a whole lot of great ideas that
either of us have expressed have fallen
prey to conversational politics, pawns,
or better, hockey pucks to score a goal.

She said, "Do you want to go to a movie?"

I said I'd love to, and we worked on in
relative silence, until later, I declared
the the kids "I'm taking MY WIFE to the
movies", arm around her waist.

And it was all uphill* from there. Why,
we are practically back to slap and tickle.

(*In most good metaphors, MORE is UP.)

Yours truly,
Glenn Scheper
http://home.earthlink.net/~glenn_scheper/
glenn_scheper + at + earthlink.net
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