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  • Name of the Day: Allen is a Gaelic male name meaning precious, rock, handsome.
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It's All in the Name

So I wake up this morning. My daughter Anna is already running around in the kitchen, making a mess as usual. More cereal on the floor than in her stomach. But there was something weird about today, and I couldn’t quite figure it out. So after getting out of bed for the first time, and realizing the first six times were dreams, I decide I need a boost.

The calls to my faithful Labrador retriever went unheeded. I should’ve known better, after all, since the Today show was on. He has been meaning to catch the revamped fourth hour, primarily due to his uncanny fascination with Kathie Lee Gifford. So out of the bed I go, with the cold floor sending chills up my spine.

Yeah, I’m definitely awake now

After freshening up in the bathroom, the tears begin to return to my eyes from each cold footstep I take. The shock invariably hits the same spot on me, and causes my nose to twitch. I think I’m coming down with a cold. I’m coming down with a cold in Summer of all seasons. I’m surprised upon opening my bathroom door, as my faithful Labrador sat before me with slippers in mouth.

I see. The Today show is on commercial break

I jubilantly remove the slippers from his mouth, and am denied further passage into my bedroom until I pat him on his head and tell him how good he is. I guess this was going to be a pretty routine day, or so I thought when I walked into the kitchen to kiss my lovely wife Vivian. My lips attempted to give her a morning kiss, but somehow was the equivalent of kissing a steel wall.

I’ll have to comment to her later about using better Chap Stick

So I sit, stretch, and prepare my usual morning routine with paper in hand. Coffee black, I say to my beautiful wife. A steaming mug is thrown in front of me so fast that five drops of java attack my torso, belting out war cries as they attempted to liberate themselves from the system.

An honest mistake, and I say to my beautiful wife, jokingly mind you:

“You really put your all into that coffee, huh?”

Chuckling, I was pleased with the witty comment. I take pleasure in my wit. I'm no Jim Carrey, it’s just a pride thing. She turned around from the stove with a spatula in her hand, clearly appalled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” she exclaimed, lowering the spatula so that I could stare at her very threatening body position. Having to explain a joke to someone invalidates it completely, and my pride was immediately shot. So I simply tell her that it's nothing, don’t worry about it. Displeased with my answer, she turned back around to cook.

If I had took notice from the corner of the room, my faithful Labrador retriever was on his way into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks and bolted to the other side of the house. What was his deal? Maybe he heard something. Either way I heard a peculiar locking sound a couple of seconds later.

Oh well, it’s probably nothing

There was suddenly a loud crash on the table in front of me. When I looked away from the paper, there is my breakfast. Runny eggs, blackened toast, and cut up sausage links with ketchup on them. I didn’t know what part of the plate made me more disgusted, but somehow the links gave off an aversion that made me quite uncomfortable. I had no choice but to respond to this abomination of a breakfast.

“Honey? Honey what’s this? It's almost like your sister Rachel cooked it"

Her eyes got wide while grabbing the plate and dumping it in the garbage can. She slammed the plate down in front of me with such force that the wind blew my paper into random pieces, all over the kitchen. Amazingly, a page from the obituary landed ever so properly on the side of the table. I see Leonard Smith is no longer with us.

“It’s nothing now. Happy?”

She was obviously angry. As her husband it is my job to make her happy, so I took action.

“What’s wrong honey?”

“Nothing William

“Well obviously something is wrong because of the way you’re acting”

“The way I’m acting?? And what is it about my acting that is bothering you this morning?”

My mouth opened to answer her obviously easy question, but I was silenced by a long and painful howl coming from the other side of the house. Clearing my throat, my mouth tried to answer and was once again silenced by the howl. This time it was followed by a low growl. Strange, wonder what our dog was getting into over there? I hope it isn’t one of my good ties again.

“Honey you’ve been careless this morning not only with your temper, but with me. I don’t know what is going on but I would like an answer”

She began to cry. I stared at her, as she fell to her knees bawling.

“What’s going on with you love?”

“Nothing!” she screamed at me. My curiosity was getting the best of me, as I had apparently opened a can of worms that was my job to close. But it was early, and I had no interest in fighting a losing battle. Standing, I prepared to walk out of the kitchen. But it was too late. She summoned me by my full name, and stressed the r at the end.

“William Eugene Frazier. Do you remember what you forgot last week?”

I froze in my tracks, and spun around. This was a trick question. I had no idea what I forgot last week, and even if I did remember, it must’ve been bad. I was trapped. Perhaps a joke would free me from these emotional shackles.

“I told you how much I loved you my dear”

She didn’t buy it, and seemed slightly more irritated. Blast.

“Wait, you really don’t know do you?”

“What do you mean my love?”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about? About last week?”

This was a ridiculous argument, and I shouldn’t be afraid to say that I didn’t know. I’m a man, and I'm proud of not remembering things that mean something to my significant other.

“Why don’t you just tell me? Babe just spit it out”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you. You should know!”

“Vivian I think it is ridiculous for me to have to figure out why you’re mad at me when you can just tell me yourself”

We both turned our heads this time, the howling reaching its finest pitch of the morning. She returned her glare at me with fire in her eyes.

“You know what. Forget it”

She stormed out of the kitchen and past me, slamming a door behind her. I was by myself in the kitchen- Lost, confused, and late for work. I had the option of putting out the fire before I went into work, or facing the music when I came home. I guess I’ll put it off again today, since I’ve been doing it for a week anyway. Oh well.

And by the way, our Labrador retriever is named Leo the 2nd.

Author: Typicalexbf

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